


Life, Libraries, and John Laurens

by wendlaswound



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Complete, Hamilton - Freeform, Lams - Freeform, Libraries, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-22
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-09-19 04:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 54,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9418535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendlaswound/pseuds/wendlaswound
Summary: All Alexander Hamilton does is write. His true love is the library. And when he meets John Laurens there, he can't help but think it was meant to be...





	1. Laurens

**Author's Note:**

> Lol giving Ao3 a try. Previously published on fanfiction.net. Enjoy (it gets better I promise)
> 
> ((bad late night decisions but I'm starting a revamp on this because major cringe is happening as I reread parts of it, so updates to come and yep. Nothing big will change though, just brushing up little things here and there))

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex, meet Laurens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have fixed all the formatting, it is fine now. *deep sigh*

Alexander Hamilton liked words.

Well,  _like_  may not be the appropriate word to clearly distinguish his love for all written materials from, say, jelly-filled donuts.

Alexander  _lived_  off of words. Every kind of word, whether it was written or spoken, screamed or whispered, short or long, old or new, careful or careless. Words took over the biggest space in his heart and were all that was ever on his mind. They were more important to him than food or going outside or human interaction. The only times he ever talked to people were to ask them 1) If they’d read anything worthwhile recently, 2) Their thoughts on the state of their local government policies, and 3) If he could quote them on that.

The only thing that he may have loved more than words was libraries. And only because they had  _so many_ words inside them _._ He regarded any library or book shop that he found himself in to be his home, even if only temporarily. It was as simple as that. No other place held the same grip on his heart and no person had ever even come close. If he could have put the local library’s address down on his school registration papers, he would have.

Alex didn't really have a home or a family, not in New York. But the library was close enough.

It was fitting, then, that he found his two greatest loves at the library: words and John Laurens.

* * *

 

Alex needed to write so badly that he had resorted to scratching the outline of words into his arm with his fingernail. The withdrawal was killing him. He should have known better than to leave his notebook on his study table in the library the night before, and he’d had to spend the whole day without it. It felt as if one if his limbs had been severed.

He was usually more careful, but he had been  _so tired_ , and very unwilling to leave. His notebook had just gotten lost in lazy translation.

It was quite appropriate that he had left his French homework in it.

The world was so claustrophobic and cluttered and busy that it seemed like the bus could not move fast enough against the current of the city. There were too many people, too many happenings, too many thoughts that Alex could not record. He was going  _out of his mind._  He bit his tongue until he tasted blood, sharp and putrid, but it only caused him to dig his fingernails in deeper. He squeezed his eyes shut in his best attempt to block out the world and silence the onslaught of thoughts that were drowning out the rest of his mind. He only knew when it was his stop from the screech and halt of the tires that threw his head against the side of the window.

Alex bolted up and nearly trampled an elderly man on his dash off the bus. He ran from the stop after a quick apology, chasing his thoughts through the streets of New York until he barreled through the all-too-familiar doors.

At once he was soothed, like ice on a burn, and felt his body settle into its natural movements. Alex waved hello to the librarians that were friendly with him, dutifully ignored the ones that were not, and let the feeling of being home wash over him.

Alex had found out very early on that there was nothing more comforting than being surrounded by books.

He dropped his latest reading haul into the return bin before he sauntered over to his claimed table, snatched his abandoned notebook back lazily, then kissed its cover before flipping through it to find the page he’d left off on.

Alex's table was in a far corner behind the dusty shelves that held children's non-fiction. It was, for the most part, secluded, and completely unvisited, but that was what made it perfect for him. A match made in library heaven. The constant smell of mildew and ink was comforting and focusing, and he could roam and study and recite French verb conjugations as he wished without having on-looking passerby. His seating choices were between a sturdy wood chair that didn't match the table in shape, style, or color, or a ragged, bright green bean bag that had been thrown in the corner haphazardly in the hopes of attracting young children to non-fiction, if only to sit and read in a surprisingly comfortable neon blob. Sometimes he just sat on the floor. Lighting was never a problem since a floor to ceiling section of the wall had been taken out and replaced with a window, open to a tranquil view of the sidewalk and city outside.

Or it  _was_  a tranquil view, until someone threw a bike at it.

Alex jumped back in his seat, his pen scratching a long black line across the clean page he had begun to write on. A kid about his age ran up to the mangled frame, shouting to another person that Alex couldn't see. From what he could tell, the kid was pretty mad, but he was more concerned about the state of his bike than seeking vengeance. After discovering that the back tire was completely flat and slightly bent out of shape, the kid sighed, sat on the curb, and pulled out his phone.

Alex made his way outside. He wasn't sure how he could help; actually, he was pretty sure that he could do virtually nothing for the guy, but he was strongly in favor of keeping his window from getting smashed in. And, the guy looked pretty pissed off. Nothing posed more of a window smashing hazard than pissed off people.

"Hey," Alex said when he approached the bike's owner. He cringed at his own awkwardness.

The guy looked up at him, startled and confused. Alex could have sworn that he had seen him before, but he couldn't put the face with a place or a name. His eyes were squinted against the sun, and his hair was pulled back harshly into an explosive ponytail of curls. He was huddled on the ground, his back against the library window. He still had his phone out, poised between his hands, and Alex suddenly felt like he was intruding. "I, uh, saw what happened with your bike and I was just wondering if I could help at all?" Alex figured he would keep his anti-window smashing motives to himself. For the time being, anyway.

He didn't realize he was holding his breath until the guy spoke. He stood up, turned to look at his mangled bike, then faced Alex.

"Sure," he said. "You wouldn't happen to have a tire pump on you, would you?"

Alex laughed, surprising himself, and the guy smiled. Alex noticed that he had a good smile. A _really_ good smile. Alex stuttered when he went to speak.

"You wouldn't mind me asking, what happened, exactly?" Alex inquired hesitantly.

"Oh, well, this old dude kind of hit the back tire of my bike, you know, _while I was riding it_ , and then he _had_ to get out of his car – a really shitty Honda, by the way - just to tell me that I should 'keep my filthy youth scum off the streets.’ And then he got mad, as you can see," he said, gesturing towards the bike.

After he had finished his recount of the incident, the stranger sighed, then held out his hand. "John Laurens."

Alex took it and they shook. "Alexander Hamilton. I go by Alex."

"You can call me whatever. I don't really care. My friends call me Laurens, though."

"Laurens, then." Alex smiled, though he sensed that they would soon fall into one of those awkward silences that he so hated. He started to speak, but clamped his jaw shut when realization colored Laurens' features with a shocked expression.

"Hey, you go to Albany Private, right? You just started this semester? Oh, god, I'm sorry I didn't recognize you before," Laurens said, slightly embarrassed. Alex was surprised. He saw Laurens looking at his uniform, which made his school obvious enough. Laurens wasn't wearing his, but he'd recognized Alex enough to remember that he was new. Alex hadn't paid that much attention to any of his classmates since he’d started school in New York, and he found it surprising that Laurens had given any to him.

"Yeah, I think I've seen you around too. With those guys, who have those names…"

Laurens laughed. His laugh was even better than his smile. "Yeah, Gilbert and Hercules. But I don't torture them like that. They're just Lafayette and Mulligan. And they're my ride, but they won't be here for-" Laurens checked his phone and sighed, "-at least two more hours."

"Oh," Alex said and blinked. Clearly, Laurens was asking for a ride, but Alex didn't have one. He also didn't have a cellphone, or people that he could call and ask for a ride even if he did have a phone. "Well, I'm just studying. You can sit with me if you want, you know, while you're waiting," Alex proposed, not expecting Laurens to agree, but hoping just a little that he would.

Laurens smiled in response. Alex wondered if he could ever get tired of that smile. "That would be nice. Thanks, Alex."

"Not a problem."

Alex showed Laurens to his corner. Laurens took the beanbag, and Alex sat at the table, consciously keeping his papers orderly, as opposed to spreading them out across the wood, and when that ran out of room, the floor. When Alex was _working_ , he wasn’t always the most attentive to organization.

Laurens didn't make conversation. He wasn't loud, he wasn't a distraction, but he wasn't doing  _anything._  He hadn't taken out his phone again since Alex had brought him into the library, and he didn't have a schoolbag or any work with him to do. Alex, come to think of it, didn't remember seeing him at school that day.

Laurens wasn't even napping.

Alex couldn't handle it.

"Hey," he called. "Do you want something to do, or, like, a _book_ , since we're in a _library_?"

Laurens laughed brightly. "If you're trying to get me to do your book report for you, don’t bother trying again."

"No," Alex responded, grinning. "Nothing like that. You just look bored. I could give you some recommendations, if you want. What kind of books do you like?"

Laurens thought for a moment, looking back and forth between Alex and the window as if he’d been backed into a corner. Which, technically, he had been.

"Anything with science, I suppose,” Laurens answered. “Anything that’s a little strange. Or something with pictures, for that matter. You can never have enough pictures. To be frank with you, I don't read much."

With those words, Alex set out on a self-ordained mission.

Within five minutes, Alexander had Laurens hooked up with a library card and  _Frankenstein_. Laurens had given him a skeptical look, but Alex only smiled, saying nothing, leaving the worn classic in Laurens' hands while he went back to his history assignment. He only hoped that it being the illustrated edition would make Laurens more inclined to actually read it.

As Laurens flipped through pages, Alex filled pages with his neat scrawl, working until he had nearly finished all of his assignments for the weekend. The hands on the clock turned, even though Alex didn't check it even once. The minutes ticked away, even though he didn't really want them to.

And then Laurens was leaving.

Alex didn't know why his chest felt so heavy when Laurens stood, thanked him for the book and the company, and went to meet his ride. Alex was alone, and for the first time in a long time, he didn't like it.

* * *

 

That weekend something happened to Alex that had never happened before: he found himself at a loss for words. One moment he was writing, trying to document as many of his experiences and thoughts and ideas as he possibly could, and the next he just… wasn't. The gears in his mind had stopped turning. He set his pen on paper, not knowing what to do with it, like he’d forgotten how it fit in his hand. He sat at his desk in his boarding room, paralyzed, until he woke from an impromptu nap with a page stuck to his face, half of it still unfilled, unfinished.

He didn't know what to do with the ache in his chest, or his brain's unwillingness to think of the right words. Wandering around like a zombie, he didn't go to the library on Saturday. The excuse he gave himself was that he was sick, and his immune system was overpowering his brain and couldn't function with the imbalance of power. He ate a piece of toast with half a jar of peanut butter slathered on top of it for breakfast, then for lunch he fixed himself a big meal and later in the afternoon he took the Livingston's kids to get ice cream at the place on the corner that they all liked.

He hated it.

He didn't write a word all day. He barely spoke. His mind was absurdly blank.

He couldn't handle the unproductivity. Thinking of all the time and potential he was wasting made him want to rip his hair out from the roots. Not knowing how to turn off his writer's block, Alex went on full shut down and slept for fourteen hours on Sunday.

            When he woke, he couldn’t remember anything he dreamed. No words came to his head, except the jingle for an auto-repair ad.

            He slouched and dragged himself out of bed before flopping back down on the covers unceremoniously.

            He supposed he was being just a little dramatic, but until he got his words back, life was going to be absolutely unbearable.


	2. Be Careful Who Your Friends Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex, meet Aaron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty crappy chapter, but important premise. Stick with me, please, and we'll get into the pasta and puns and kissing and doodles and ALL THAT GOOD STUFF.

Alex spent the rest of Sunday pacing. He slouched down the stairs of the Livingstons’ house, then paused at the end, unsure of what he had come down for. He turned around and went back up to his room, before repeating the process over. The only relief he had was that he had finished his homework on Friday at the library. He wasn't sure he would even be able to write about due process in the state he was in.

And he always wanted to write about due process.

After deciding that he was suffering from a major loss of motivation, Alex went for a run to try and get some energy back in him. In reality, he went outside for about five minutes, realized he was cold, and then went back inside. He tried every method of treatment; eating ice cream, watching ten minutes of a sad movie before getting bored and turning it off, chewing on the end of his pencil, willing to words to appear in his brain through meditation, and banging his head against the wall repeatedly until one of the kids hollered at him to shut up. He paged through every book in the house and found that he couldn't even bring himself to read.

It was a travesty.

In the end, he did the only thing he could do: sleep more. In the morning, he nearly missed the bus and was sluggish despite all the rest he’d gotten. He had simply lost his will to live – or write, but it was the same thing in his mind.

In fifth-hour, he noticed that Laurens was in his biology class. The image shocked him, as he now had trouble thinking of Laurens outside of the library. It didn’t help that he had barely any recollection of seeing Laurens around school, much less in one of his classes. Right then Alex decided that he would be paying more attention to his classmates, whether they had a good smile and knew a lot about marine biology or not.

During lunch, he noticed that Laurens sat at a table with two other guys, who must have been the Lafayette and Mulligan that had been Laurens’ ride the other day. Both of them were loud and exuberant, but not rambunctious enough to be considered disciplinary cases. Alex caught Laurens glancing at him a few times throughout the day after discovering that they shared their English and American History classes as well. The more frequent the glances became, the more they pretended that they didn’t notice them.

Whenever Alex saw Laurens in the halls or they shared a quick look he wanted to say something, but the words continued to evade him. Every time it happened, the pain in his chest would throb, making his heart flutter with anxiety. He did his best to ignore it.

The few words that Alex had brought himself to write that day were generic and utterly dispassionate. He knew what he had to say to finish his assignments, knew what the teachers wanted as answers. His classes weren’t so much digesting the material as they were figuring out what you had to do for an A. It wasn't what Alex's vision of a higher, better education had been, but now that he had resources, he intended to use them.

After fighting his way through the day as a seemingly illiterate zombie, Alex bolted to his locker from eighth-hour study hall, more eager to leave the stifling atmosphere than he ever had been before. He gathered his books, muttering ecology vocabulary terms to himself, and when he turned to walk to the bus stop, he almost ran right into Laurens.

"Whoa-"

"Hey, Alex. Sorry about that," Laurens said after Alex had recalibrated. They walked down the hall, side by side.

"No, it's fine. How was your weekend?" Alex asked politely.

Laurens shrugged. "Pretty typical. I finished that book you recommended."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. It was good. Crazy good. Or, maybe it was just plain crazy." Alex laughed, which made Laurens smile.

"Hey," Laurens started. "My friends and I are going to hang out after school. We're leaving now. You want to come? We can get you a ride."

Alex couldn't have been more surprised. He'd had so few friends that were his own age during his childhood that he could count them on one hand. Often their names were forgotten when he tried to remember the small moments they’d shared. And they had never just "hung out," or anything like that. The only bonds Alex had ever made with other people were those of necessity. His friends had been his friends so he wouldn’t look like a loner, so he wouldn’t be the target of people who wanted to fight mostly because they could, so he didn’t have to live in his head to the point where reality became an unrecognizable dream land. So he could get a job. So he could _survive._

He didn't know what he was more shocked about; that it seemed like Laurens wanted to be friends with him, or that Alex sort of wanted that, too.

They were still walking. Laurens was following Alex, and the longer it took him to respond the more anxious he started to look.

"Oh. Well, I would, but I have to work." Alex cringed as he heard himself say those words. Most of the kids at Albany Prep were well funded, well connected. _They_ didn't have to work, and if they did, it wasn't because they _needed_ too. Alex was almost certain that Laurens one of them. And that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, that Laurens was wealthy. It was just that Alex wasn't.

"Oh," Laurens said, his chin tilted down, looking at the ground. He didn't look back at Alex until he said, "Hey, that's fine. Maybe another time, then." Alex had stopped in front of the exit. Laurens kept walking.

"Definitely," Alex replied, as he waved goodbye to Laurens, who was smiling and saluted him in return.

Alex watched him walk the rest of the hall, his friends gathering around him as he went, forming a traveling, laughing huddle. Alex sighed, then bolted out the door, worried that he would miss the bus.

He would have, if he hadn't run to the stop.

The Legacy Pages, the newspaper where Alex worked, was deeper in town than he would have liked, at least for transportation purposes. It took at least forty minutes to get there after school every day, and he never got back to his boarding house until ten if he worked until nine. It was one of the smaller city papers, though, so there wasn't a whole lot of pressure on him to get everything exactly right, although he tried his best. Even though he was only an intern ( _paid_ intern, he liked to note), he had been trusted with a few short articles and editorial tasks in the short two weeks he had been employed there, mostly because they were amazingly understaffed due to their unpopularity. He still got dealt the typical intern tasks, getting coffee for the editors, ordering lunch and dinner for whoever was working at their office building at that time, previewing that week's publication before they sent it to the printers. But he could write, and his bosses usually liked what he wrote. He hoped that he’d be promoted soon, but for the moment it was enough.

He had a job.

It was enough.

The bus ride was grueling, that day particularly, since he had nothing to write about, though he did try. Alex was far less than content staring out the window as the city passed by, the sights flitting by faster than his sluggish brain could register them, but that was what kept him occupied until they came to the closest stop to the small office building where Legacy was stationed. He smiled and said hi to the bus driver as he got off, then jogged down the street, worried he would be late, even though he really didn't have any set working hours. He had proven that he could get more work done in a day than half the writers could in a week, so his bosses were pretty lenient with letting his times slide.

The building was conjoined with a chiropractor's office that Alex had never noticed any sort of livelihood from in the time since he’d been hired, even though it was very clearly open. Most of his co-workers thought it was haunted by a nasty old lady with a cat print calico dress, a red sneer, and a bad back, but Alex had seen no such person in the building. No person, period. Sometimes he opened the door just a slight bit, terrified and curious of what could pop out at him. He didn't then. Instead, he took a left into a neat, cramped room that smelt strongly of old coffee and printer ink. There were few people working; the two other interns, and one editor. Alex was familiar with none of them despite working in close proximity to them for several weeks now.

Maybe he should make a resolution to pay more attention to his co-workers, as well.

He sighed and threw his book bag on the floor next to one of the always-available desktops that were set up for public use to, even though they rarely were. Since he wasn't officially a journalist, he didn't have his own. That wasn’t really a problem for him, though. It was only a matter of time, anyway.

He powered it up, opened what he had been working on from last week, and proceeded to stare at the screen blankly. He didn't move or say anything, just watched the blinking cursor and waited for the words to come to him.

They didn't.

He read over what he already had and nodded along, agreeing with his own thoughts and word choice, but added nothing but a comma. When he got to the end where the blank depths of the document waited in earnest, he felt as if he’d found his way out of a maze but was still hopelessly lost.

Alex was starting to fall asleep when one of the interns that he knew he went to school with but had never really crossed paths with walked over and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey," the guy said, and Alex nearly jumped out of his chair. The intern smiled as Alex sat up straight, then asked him with an understanding grin, "Working hard, or hardly working?"

Alex laughed a little but was too lost and exhausted to come up with a legitimate response. Thankfully, the guy didn't seem to expect him to.

"I don't think we've met," he said, holding out his hand. "Aaron Burr."

Although Alex had never been introduced to Aaron, he'd heard his name whispered around school in clandestine, reverent tones. It was as if everyone knew _of_ him but didn’t know enough _about_ him to say that they were close. As far as Alex had heard, was in all accelerated courses, led the archery team, and was generally well regarded, but very stoic. The only times that Alex had seen him around school he had been carefully copying down his homework or studiously ignoring the conversations of the groups around him (not that Alex blamed him, there). Truthfully, Alex thought he was rather intimidating, but, quite frankly, he was too tired to care at that moment. He had had enough introductions in the past few days.

"Alexander Hamilton," he said, trying to disguise how tired he was with a grin.

Aaron smiled. "Hamilton… your parents aren't from around here, are they? They didn't go to Prep?"

Alex shook his head, not planning on admitting more than that since Aaron Burr wasn't much more than a highly regarded stranger to him. "What about yours?" Alex asked, testing how much of this exchange was friendly.

He sniffed and shook his head looking down, but his voice betrayed nothing. "No. They died when I was young. My sister and I live with our uncle."

Alex wasn't sure if he could have been more surprised. Aaron was an orphan – like him, but unlike Alex, he didn't shy away from the fact.

And he had a sister that he lived with. Alex used to think he was lucky when his brother referred him as ‘that kid’.

"Mine, too, I mean my parents." Aaron nodded solemnly as if he had already known and Alex was merely confirming it. Alex flinched, though Burr didn’t notice.

"Well, Hamilton, look at where we are now," he said. "We’ve made it this far," Burr patted his back as if they’d been buddies for ages. “They’d be proud.”

Alex froze and pursed his lips. He didn't like people who told other people how they felt or how other people felt. When Burr said it, it seemed verbatim, like he knew it without a doubt. It was more than a little unnerving, and chills rippled down Alex’s spine as he gritted his teeth and tried not to completely lose his temper. But, in all fairness, he hadn’t had the best day. His lost words were eating at him.

“Really?” Alex began. “You think? Because to me, it looks like we’re doing absolutely nothing on a Monday in a struggling little newspaper office next to a haunted chiropractor clinic in the land of opportunity. Well, I guess it _is_ better than being a check-out boy in Walgreens. So proud.” He couldn’t help his snippy tone. This guy was getting on his nerves. Reproachfully, Alex tugged at his jacket and smiled pleasantly, waiting for this encounter to end.

"Look," Burr said, ignoring Alex’s snide rant and finally seeming to get down to business. "I didn't just come over here to have a nice little chat. A few of my friends, well, they're not very fond of you." Alex had no idea what Burr was talking about, and it must have shown on his face, because then Burr explained. "John Witherspoon?"

Alex looked at him blankly.

Burr sighed. "You punched him, maybe two, three weeks ago."

 _Oh. That_ , Alex thought and rolled his eyes. He didn't want to have to defend himself to Burr, but he would for this. It hadn't been his fault, and he wasn't about to take blame for it.

"If you had just said that name with no context, I would have had no idea who you were talking about. But, I'll explain, since the instance you’re referring too had nothing to do with me. After I started at Albany your, uh, _friends_ , came up to me, and I wasn't very fond of what they were saying about me, which had absolutely no basis, I may add. Things got a little out of hand, and I wouldn't have done _anything_ if it hadn’t been unprovoked, but I-" Burr cut him off with a wave of his hands.

"Hamilton, it's fine. I'm not mad, just a bit surprised. John isn't someone that people mess with. Honestly, when he told me that this new kid gave him a black eye, I laughed. I thought he was lying." Alex didn't know how to respond to that. He laughed nervously. That fight hadn’t been his proudest moment, but he couldn’t have done _nothing_ when a bunch of snobs were slandering him for no reason, just because he came from some slums. He hadn’t even know how they’d known.

Maybe he just reeked poverty and desperation.

Burr dropped his smile. "Well, I only mention it because they're still not all that happy about it. I doubt they'd do anything else, but just watch your back. You can't be too careful."

 _Some friends you have_ , Alex thought snidely. "Thanks for the advice, but I'd better get back to work," he said, pretending that he was disappointed that he had to end the conversation.

"Aw," Burr whined. "No one's working tonight. They already have Friday's edition put together. Why don't you and I take the night off? You look tired."

"No, I'd rather not. Work comes first. You know how it is."

Burr paused, like he didn’t actually know. "Well, that's too bad."

"Yeah, sorry. Well, I guess I'll see you later?"

Burr nodded in assent and was turning away when he paused and addressed Alex again. "Hamilton, I saw that you were talking with John Laurens today."

Alex felt like he was being accused. He clenched his fists and fixed his stare on Burr. "Yeah, and?"

Burr looked at Alex dumbly. "It's just," he began, "and I say this with complete respect, that crowd isn't the one that someone of your caliber should be hanging out with. Laurens, Lafayette, Mulligan, they're all rich and well connected, but, well, they're slackers. Troublemakers." Burr said it like it was the worst thing he could think of. "They're not going on to big things, not like you and I. They don’t work for what they want or what they believe. They don’t have to. They’re not for us. Just… be careful who your friends are."

"Oh, I will," Alex nodded aggressively. Burr seemed to take that as a good sign. He shut down his computer, scooped up his backpack, waving to Alex as he left.

"See you around, Hamilton."

"And you, Burr."

Alex sat in his chair, baffled for a moment. Then he shook his head, not even knowing where to begin to digest that conversation. He stared at his screen again, trying to distract himself, but it was to no avail. After a half an hour of nothing, he decided that if he wanted to be productive at all that night, it wouldn't be there. As much as he hated agreeing with someone like Burr on anything, it was a slow night, and he wouldn't get anything done anyway.

Instead of waiting for the bus, Alex walked the few blocks to the library. It was about midway between the Livingston's house and his work, closer to the house. It took him a shorter time to walk there than it would have if he rode the bus route.

Entering the library was like reaching land after being lost in the stormy sea. All the words and papers around him made him tingle, all his stress being relieved and slowly deflating him until he didn't feel nearly so twitchy and tired. Standing in the middle of the shelves, he paused to soak in the comfort, his breath slowing.

And then someone was calling his name.

"Hey, Alex!" Laurens shouted from a couple shelves over. Alex’s heart skipped a beat. An old man studiously reading a large volume at one of the tables shushed Laurens for his outburst, and he gave the man an apologetic look before jogging over to Alex.

"I'm surprised to see you here, and yet, I'm not surprised at all," Laurens said. He was smiling, which meant that Alex was smiling.

"I could say the same to you. What brings you here? I thought you went out with your friends."

Laurens stuck his hands in his pockets and looked at the floor. "They had plans come up. I'm just here because I finished that book, and I had to come return it, so I figured I'd pick up another one while I was here."

"Have you found anything yet?"

"Not at all. Please help me."

Alex laughed which made the old man at the table shoot him a glare. "Come on, I know something you might like," Alex said, somewhat dragging Laurens through the rows of shelves.

"Should I be scared?" he asked.

"Exactly," was all Alex said in reply.

* * *

 

Alex had Laurens’ arms piled with books, and now he was struggling under their weight and volume as they waited in the line to check out. He held several volumes of Stephen King: _The Tommyknockers_ , _Four Past Midnight_ , _The Colorado Kid_ , and _Carrie_ , just for kicks. As Alex had piled more and more into his arms, Laurens' eyes bugged out and his jaw dropped a little, but he hadn't protested. "Trust me," was all Alex had said, and Laurens did, apparently. At least when it came to books.

As they were waiting, Laurens laughed. "I don't think I've read this much in my life. You think I can finish all of these?"

"Psh," Alex replied. "You finished Frankenstein in a day. And The King is worth it. You'll be freaked out of your mind, but you can do it."

"I'll take your word for it, then."

Laurens checked out, and Alex got him a plastic bag from the stash in the back to carry his books.

"Where are you headed to?" Alex asked. "Do you have a ride?"

"Nah," Laurens said and shrugged. "I actually only live a few blocks away, I just didn't want to have to drag my bike there last time."

"Understandable. I should probably be headed back too."

"Mind if I walk with you?"

"Not at all."

Alex held the door open for Laurens, and they walked out into the cool air, the night still a few hours away, but the color already beginning to seep from the sky. Cars, lights, people, everything hummed lazily as they went on. The feeling from the library still hadn't left Alex, and he could breathe easily, think clearly.

Like before, Laurens didn't ask questions. Not for a while at least. When they were about two blocks away from Alex's house, he asked, "So, you go to the library a lot?"

Alex laughed. "I practically live there. It just feels like home. It's familiar."

Laurens nodded. "I'm guessing moving here wasn't all that great."

"Oh, no. It's great here. I mean, I get to go to school, I have a job, there's a library. I'm not complaining. It's just… different."

"Where are you from?"

Alex stayed quiet for a breath too long. "Far," was all he answered. Laurens didn't press it, for which Alex was more than grateful. Instead, he went into a story of his own.

"My dad's work is kinda crazy, so I lived in England a lot when I was younger. Studied there a lot. It was tough, going back and forth, because you never really settle down. I have four younger siblings, and I just hate that it has to be so hard for them. They have to switch between lives, going to different school with different friends, and they can't keep up with both, so they're always behind." Alex didn't know what to say. He didn't have those kind of family connections, or moving for anything other than necessity. Laurens was quiet. "We have it worked out now so that we can stay here, just us kids. At least, until I graduate." Laurens seemed finished with that.

Alex took a deep breath, formulating a response. "I guess there's no use worrying about it until then?"

"Yeah. They seem happy," Laurens smiled, as if picturing his siblings laughing and smiling too.

"What about you?" Alex asked quietly.

Laurens' walking faltered and he seemed taken aback. Alex was about to apologize, but Laurens spoke before he could.

"Me?" he shrugged. "Yeah. As long as they're happy, I'll be just fine."

Alex didn't think that was the actual answer to his question, but he left it alone. Laurens had done that much for him.

Alex nearly missed his street.

"Oh, hey, this is my place," he said, pointing to the general direction of his boarding house. "How much farther do you have?" he asked Laurens, concerned now that it was really getting dark.

"Two more streets down, a right, and another. Then I'm home."

"Do you want me to walk the rest of the way with you?"

"Oh, no – that's fine. It's close. But thanks for offering. I guess I'll see you later, then?"

"Yeah, I guess I'll see you."

"Thanks for the books."

"Any time."

They each walked the rest of the way to their homes alone, a trek that was much dimmer and slower than it was when they were together. When he was inside, Alex quickly declined the invitations from all the Livinstons to sit down for dinner. He went straight up to his room and fell onto his bed without dropping his book bag to the floor.

Like always, it seemed like his time with John Laurens was over too quickly.

Alex didn’t get very much sleep that night.


	3. The Schuyler Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex, meet the Schuylers. (Schuylers, meet Alex.) ((Also: Angelica pisses Burr off: a preview.))

 

The next day at school, Alex wrote for the first time in what felt like forever.

He wrote about Laurens.

He didn’t exactly know _why_ he was writing about Laurens, but he wasn’t about to argue with his brain now that it had suddenly become so willing to work for him.

He started on a fresh page in his notebook while he ate breakfast, a warm cup of coffee helping to awaken his thoughts and resurrect him from his writing slump. With a careful hand, he tentatively penned the precious words into his notebook, shocking himself as he did so. Before he got on the bus, the first line said, "WHAT I KNOW ABOUT JOHN LAURENS."

It was underlined three times, all lines perfectly straight and evenly spaced.

On the bus, his hand was too jittery and he was being thrown around too much to keep his ideas in line or his handwriting neat. But the words were there, nevertheless.

He disregarded everything that was said in his classes, asking around to find out what the homework was at the last moment before the bell rang. By fourth hour, he had written all of seven lines.

WHAT I KNOW ABOUT JOHN LAURENS

\- He has a very nice smile.

\- He can ride a bike.

\- We have the same Biology, English, and American History Classes (Fifth hour, sixth hour, and seventh hour.)

\- He has four younger siblings and he cares about them a lot.

\- He's probably very rich.

\- He should wear his hair down sometimes.

\- He likes science, and he likes books (he just doesn't totally know it yet.)

In fifth hour, Laurens was in class and Alex felt more than a little self-conscious writing about him with him in the room. Because of Alex's vow to pay more attention, he set his notebook and pen aside and watched Laurens correct their teacher's notes, asking questions that he already knew the answer to just to call the teacher out when he was wrong. Alex added “He likes picking fights” to the list hastily. Despite Laurens’ less than civil habits, Alex had never thought that biology could be so interesting.

By lunch, Alex was so full of words, questions, and the premonition of both that he was shaking almost uncontrollably. His hands twitched and he couldn't stay focused. He nearly tripped and dropped his books several times just during the walk to his locker. In the cafeteria, he sat down at his usual table with a messily packed lunch and pulled out his notebook, eager to be writing again, no matter how cautiously and no matter the subject.

He quickly closed his notebook when he saw John Laurens approach him.

"Hey," Laurens said with that smile. Alex’s thoughts evaporated when he saw it and his newly regained words seemed to fizzle in his head, short circuiting his brain.

Laurens didn't seem to notice Alex's nervousness, or the fact that he was slowly sliding his notebook back into his bag.

"Hey, how's it going?" Alex responded coolly. He wondered if Laurens was going to sit with him.

"Pretty good. I was just wondering if you wanted to come and sit with me-" he pointed over to his table, right in the middle of the cafeteria, where the other two boys that Laurens was usually with were waving and laughing. "-and my friends. They're a  _little_  curious to meet you."

"Oh." Alex looked around at his empty table. He had no excuses. Then again, he wondered why he was looking for one.

He smiled at Laurens again. "Sounds great. Thanks."

“No problem," Laurens grinned, not nearly as nice as his smile, but still warm.

Alex gathered his stuff and followed Laurens over to the table, anxious to meet Laurens’ friends and praying to all the gods, whether he believed in them or not, that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself.

Laurens stopped right in front of the table to introduce him. "Hey, guys. This is Alex, the guy who I was telling you about.”

The idea that Laurens had been talking about him briefly floated through Alex’s mind, but was quickly lost to his nerves. “Alex, that's Mulligan-" Laurens pointed to the tall burly kid to his left, who acknowledged him with a grunt, "-and Lafayette," and to the slimmer boy with a rather voluminous afro to the right. Lafayette gave Alex a flirty wink and fluttered his fingers at him.

"Hi," Alex said in greeting. Seeming satisfied with that, Laurens sat next to Mulligan and began to eat his lunch. Not knowing what else to do, Alex slowly lowered himself into the seat next to Lafayette, who grinned at him brightly.

"So this is Laurens' "friend"," Mulligan boomed. Alex thought he saw Laurens blush, but it was too faint for him to be certain.

"We've been waiting to meet you," Lafayette smiled in Alex's ear. Alex laughed nervously.

"Alex has only been here since the start of the semester, it's not like you've been waiting an eternity. It's not like Alex is Beyoncé. Chill guys," Laurens said, clearly embarrassed.

Mulligan seemed to mutter something like, "Yet you won't stop talking about him…" but Alex wasn't sure whether he heard it correctly.

"Ah, Beyoncé," Lafayette sighed. Mulligan spread his arms out across the table, disrupting Laurens tray.

"Well," Mulligan began. "A little Burr-dy told me that Alex is one of the most accredited transfers Prep has had the pleasure of-"

"Burr?!" Laurens shouted indignantly, choking on his food. "How do you know Burr?" he asked Alex. Alex tried to ignore his accusatory tone.

"…I work with him." All three boys looked at him, somewhat flabbergasted. Mulligan looked like he was about to burst out laughing. "I mean, he's an intern at the same place I am. I don't know him. I literally just talked to him for the first time yesterday, and I don't know what he's told you about me, but-"

"Laurens hates Aaron Burr," Mulligan interrupted.

"And we have no idea why," Lafayette finished.

Laurens huffed angrily, and Alex was thankful it wasn't because of him any longer. His nostrils flared as he started explaining. "I don’t understand why you guys find that so strange. He's a snob and a useless asshole. I’m sick of him treating people like garbage. Is that so hard to grasp?" Laurens was breathing heavily. He violently tore into his cheeseburger.

"C'mon, John," Mulligan laughed. "What has the man ever done to you?"

"Well-"

"Absolutely nothing, that's what. Have you ever even had a real conversation with the guy?"

"Well, no-"

"Then why are you so certain that you hate him?"

Laurens swallowed, exhaled, pinched his nose, and was quiet for a long time, all three of them watching him closely with anticipation.

"Okay, I get your point. I don't really know the guy, but whenever I'm around him, when he talks, it just gets under my skin. He acts like a king, like whatever he says is infallible, but there's no substance to it. He thinks he knows everything, yet, when you question him you find nothing. Absolutely nothing. He's as hollow as those chocolate Easter bunnies. And he’s always rude to everyone, or condescending. I may have never talked to him, but it’s not like I haven’t been around him for years. I know him well enough to have an opinion." Laurens bit into his burger again, shaking his head.

"I agree," Alex said. All three heads snapped toward him. "He told me that you guys were the 'bad crowd' around here."

Mulligan grumbled under his breath, "That bitch say what?"

Alex shook his head. "Honestly, I'm a bit more frightened of him."

Lafayette snorted. "If there  _is_  a bad crowd around here, it's his so-called  _friends_. They terrorize everyone for everything. Alex, you should have been here last year when Angelica Schuyler slapped Jon Dayton for telling her that maybe Student Council would listen to her ideas more if she wore a shorter skirt. It was hilarious."

"Well, no matter what we think of him, he's been talking about you, Alex," Mulligan said sympathetically. "You better watch your back."

"He told me the same thing," Alex groaned.

"Burr and his sexist friends won't get to you now. You're ours," Laurens said. Both Lafayette and Laurens smiled at him. Mulligan grunted in acknowledgment.

"Every word you all say makes me regret this even more," Alex joked. They were all laughing, and Alex didn’t exactly know why, but it was okay, because he understood that he was welcomed here, that he was not getting away from these people any time soon. Not like he really wanted to. It was strange, though, how quickly it seemed that he had connected with them. That had never happened before. He didn’t really understand, and for once he didn’t mind.

Laurens looked up from his meal. "Hey, Alex? Did you get the vocab terms for bio? Honestly, I don't even pay attention in that class anymore."

Alex laughed. "Yeah, I noticed. You could probably teach that class. I finished the vocab, but it's in my locker."

"Oh, no worries, you can just text it to me." Laurens began to pull out his phone and Alex panicked.

"Oh, I uh, don't have a phone. Yet," he added after he saw the threesome's bewildered expressions. Darn age of technology, always leaving him behind. "I'm still getting the plan set up, and all. Moving was weird." Alex's face stung from the lie, but he pretended like nothing was wrong. They seemed to take his excuse.

"Alright," Laurens said, sliding his phone back into his pocket. The bell rang then, startling Alex. Lauren stood up and said, "Well, I'll see you later anyway? Next hour, right?"

"Yeah, see you then." They all stood and cleared their trays, leaving Alex behind, struggling to gather all his books.

He hadn't even finished his lunch.

* * *

 

Alex exchanged homework with Laurens after seventh hour. Though Laurens was struggling under his textbooks, Alex added the sheet to his pile, and Laurens gave him a grateful wink and whispered, "Thanks," before they were jostled out of the room by the flow of students.

When Alex had finally sat down in study hall, free from distractions and people, no matter how amusing they may be, the pent-up energy in him exploded onto the pages.

He documented what he had done the past few days, as he had so meticulously done before he had suffered from his three-day bout of writer's block. He outlined two articles for the paper and wrote half of one before the period was halfway over. His homework stayed packed tightly in his backpack, completely disregarded. Then he opened his notebook to the list he had written that morning.

He made another one right underneath it.

WHAT I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT JOHN LAURENS

\- Do his siblings have the same smile as him?

\- How does he put up with them all the time?

\- How did he meet Lafayette and Mulligan?

\- Why does he like science so much?

\- Why does he want to be friends with me?

\- Have I been blind or does he own a lot of turtle-themed clothes and stuff?

Alex had far more questions than those, but he couldn't convince himself they were all valid enough to write down. He looked at his paper blankly for a few moments, and as he started to get frustrated, the bell rang. He sighed in relief, and bolted up through the halls, eager to get to work now that his words had returned to him, but he dreaded another encounter with Burr.

Laurens didn't find him in the halls before he got to the bus, which Alex found himself a little disappointed. But he was writing again. A little disappointment couldn’t hinder his joy and relief.

He ran from the bus stop to the office building, and then stopped in his tracks when he saw a girl working in his usual spot.

The girl and Burr were sniping at each other through the corners of their lips, refusing to lay their eyes on each other even as they bickered fervently. The other intern that usually worked with them was nowhere to be seen, but Alex wasn't very concerned about that at the moment.

The girl was tall even when she was sitting, easily his height or slightly taller. She was dressed like a news reporter and Alex was suddenly self-conscious of his rumpled uniform. She was sitting at his computer, typing diligently.

Burr saw him before the girl did, and quickly launched out of his chair, towards Alex, even though the girl was still talking. Alex wanted to turn around and walk right out into the chiropractor's office. Maybe they would have something for the massive headache he was anticipating, even if their only staff was the spirits of the dead. Hell, at this point he’d even take the souls of the damned if they’d write him out a prescription.

"Hamilton," Burr smiled. The girl looked up with a pinched expression on her face, but it relaxed into curiosity when she saw him. Burr took his hand without Alex having offered it.

"Thank god you're here," he mumbled so only Alex could hear. "I can't handle being alone with Angelica. She scares me." Alex looked around the room, and more people were there actively working than he'd seen in a long time. Burr wasn't really alone, and he doubted the girl could be so bad. Alex could hardly keep from rolling his eyes.

Burr turned around to head back to his desk, and when he did so Angelica was right behind him, smiling and holding out her hand to Alex. Burr jumped back like a cat dropped in water.

"Angelica Schuyler. I'm the new intern," she said. She had a serious face, sharp cheekbones and tight lips, but her eyes were intelligent and welcoming. Alex took her hand in his, quickly recollecting what the guys had said of her earlier. Anyone who punched a friend of Burr's was a friend of his. They already had something in common.

"Alexander Hamilton." Alex smiled brightly at her before asking, "New intern? What happened to that other guy? What was his name?"

Angelica snorted. "James Madison? He quit. I'm his replacement, since I've been applying for a position here for the past year. Old Mads couldn't handle the stress between school, work, homework, housework, mental issues, all of his life problems, etc." Alex even saw Burr huff a laugh at that.

"Sounds like a stand-up guy," Alex said.

"Ha!" Angelica barked. "If you want to meet someone with an  _excellent disposition_ , you should meet his comrade, Thomas Jefferson." Burr whistled low, then headed back to his desk. Clearly he disliked Jefferson nearly as much as he disliked most of the human population.

"Do I even want to know?" Alex asked.

"Probably not. But you'll meet him soon enough. He's the delivery guy for World's Grill, aka, the only place anyone orders food from after ten o'clock. Well, there and Pizza Hut, but if I had to choose between stale bread sticks and riling up T-Jeffs… Let me just say, he's quite the character."

"Huh. He doesn't go to Albany Prep, does he?"

"No. He and Madison go to South Albany Academy. You go to Prep?" Angelica asked, her eyebrows crinkling together as she finally took notice of his uniform.

"Yeah."

"So do I."

"Really? How have I never seen you around?"

"Are you a junior?"

"Yeah, I just started this semester."

Angelica nodded knowingly. "I'm a senior."

Alex shrugged regretfully. "Oh, well, I guess that explains it."

"My sister Eliza is a junior, though."

Alexander quirked his eyebrows. Surely the second Schuyler sister would be as witty as Angelica. "Really? I don't think I have her in any of my classes, but honestly, I have no idea who I  _do_  have in my classes."

"Ha. Well, she should be picking me up soon, so you guys can meet then."

"Great." And it was.

Alex and Angelica went to sit down at the desktops, and Alex tried not to be too disgruntled that he wasn't at his computer. He typed up what he had written in study hall, then finished it, proofread it, formatted it, printed it out, set it in the finished pile, and sent a digital copy to the head editor. When he sat down, he got going right on the next one, his own personal assignment. He needed a few quotes for it, but he wrote what he could. Angelica looked at him, dumbfounded, the entire time.

"What?" he asked when he finally noticed her noticing him.

"Did you just write an entire article, like, right now?"

"Well," he said, a little impressed with himself that he was able to shock her. "I wrote half of it in study hall earlier, I just finished it now-"

"But you wrote like, how many words was that?"

Alex shrugged. "Eh, four, five thousand? I don't know. They'll probably have me cut it down anyway."

While they talked, Burr studiously ignored them. His face betrayed no emotion, but Alex could tell he did not approve, and wasn’t all that happy about being ignored himself.

"Just, wow," Angelica said, disbelieving. "How do you write like that? Like, once you start you don't stop? Do you ever get writer's block?"

Alex laughed. "Well, actually-"

"AngelicAAA!" someone called from the front door. The workers there looked puzzled for a moment, then just chuckled under their breaths and went back to their screens, but the three interns turned their heads in synchronization to the girl who had just shouted Angelica's name. Alex took a wild guess that it was her sister, and he asked as much.

“Your sister, I presume?” he mumbled to Angelica. She nodded and smiled at him before standing to greet the other girl.

"Angelica!" Schuyler No. 2 shouted again, making her way over to them. "C'mon, I've been texting you for like ten minutes, we have to go pick up Peggy at-" then she saw Alex and froze. "Oh."

Angelica stood up swiftly. "Alexander, this is my sister Eliza."

Eliza was still looking at him, her eyes and mouth open in wide Os. She was wearing a short, flowery blue dress and a light jacket as opposed to Angelica's professional ensemble, and had her phone and keys clutched in her hand. She was a little shorter than her sister, and Alex was grateful for that. He’d felt like a midget with Burr and Angelica surrounding him earlier.

Alex stood next to Angelica and held out a hand. "Alex Hamilton. It’s a pleasure to meet you."

Eliza took his hand, still a bit dazed, and smiled softly. She had the same bright eyes as her sister. "It's nice to meet you, too. Do you go to Albany Prep?"

"Yes, I do. Are you in my… French class? Third hour?"

"Yeah. You're new, right?"

"Yeah, I just moved here this semester."

"That's nice. Where are you from?"

Alex was quiet. He knew as soon as he was heading off to New York that having people aware of where he was from, _what_ he was from, would only alter their perception of him. That was not how he wanted it, and he wasn’t going to let it happen. He was going to succeed and write and get good grades because he was smart, not because he was a sob story, and he refused to let people look down on him for anything other than that they truthfully disagreed with him, or they were taller than him. And that last one wasn’t really saying all that much. The majority of his life consisted of his view being blocked by other people’s upper bodies.

He knew that there was a reason why he liked books so much; books didn’t care how tall you were.

When he replied to Eliza, he acknowledged his repressed gratitude for his gift with words, and bit his lip before he laughed and said smoothly, "I’ve spent far too much of my life somewhere that wasn’t here."

Eliza laughed lightly. She seemed like she was about to say something in response, but Angelica interrupted her.

"Okay, my lovely sister. We really should go. Peggy will be pissed if we forget to pick her up  _again._ " Angelica shut down her computer and grabbed her laptop bag, before linking her arm with her sister’s. "See you later, Alex?" Angelica said, not waiting for his answer as she led her sister out of the office, leaving Alex unsatisfied, but with a smile on his face.

"The Schuyler sisters," Burr said. "Not the brightest, not the nicest. If you're looking for a girlfriend, or just a friend for that matter, I suggest you look somewhere else."

"Where  _should_  I look for friends? You?" Alex couldn't help himself. The sarcasm in his comment could practically drown the whole room, but Burr responded seriously.

"Yes.  We can do things no one has even dreamed of. We will be the successful ones, Hamilton. And working together will make it easier on both of us."

Alex had to laugh. "Wow, I’m glad you’re so optimistic, but you don't even know me. And why am I good enough for you, but no one else is? What do you have against Angelica or Laurens, or this Jefferson for that matter?"

"They're not like us."

Alex didn't know how one person could be this capable of making him so profoundly uncomfortable.

Burr took a few steps back. "I warned you, Hamilton. Connections are everything, and if you make the wrong ones-" he left whatever he was going to say unfinished, but Alex got the point.

They worked in silence until Alex couldn't bear Burr's silent presence next to him. He decided to call it a night, even though he really didn't want to, and he felt guilty about cutting his work hours so much this week. But he'd gotten a lot done, and it was already well past dinner time. He still had homework to do.

Alex walked home again so he wouldn't have to wait for the bus for an hour, and because he figured he could use the fresh air.

He couldn't help but think of walking home with Laurens yesterday, and he wished he had the company now. And he was surprised, because he usually didn't need or want anyone. He made sure of that. All of his connections in the past had broken and he wasn't sure if he could rely on the ones he'd just made. He was, he realized then, like Burr. Burr was right when he had said that they were alike.

But Alex wouldn't let himself stay that way.

* * *

 

Alex got home and gratefully scarfed down the leftovers from dinner that Mrs. Livingston offered him. He smiled as the little kids asked him about his day and told him about theirs, and actually found himself enjoying the stupid skits they put on for him. Finally realizing he couldn't put off his homework any longer, he retreated to his room, ruffling one of the little boy's hair before he pounded up the stairs.

When he sat down at his desk, he put his face in his hands and sighed.

He'd had a good day.

He pulled his notebook and folders out of his backpack reluctantly, and bent over to pick up a folded piece of paper that had fallen out of the pile. He sighed as he spread it out, expecting it to be a forgotten assignment that he would have to add on to his to-do list.

But it was from Laurens. In tight cursive, the letter only filled about half the page, but Alex read it attentively, not bothering to ponder how Laurens had snuck the note in his bag.

_Alex,_

_I'm sorry about whatever all that was at lunch. Mulligan and Lafayette aren't some of the most… accommodating people out there. If they made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. You can tell them to shut their faces if they tick you off again, no problem. Honestly, I would probably laugh if you did._

_I figured this would be an okay form of communication? Mostly because we don't have all the hours in the day to spend talking, and quite sincerely, I enjoy talking to you. It may not be the most ideal, but will it work?_

_Laurens_

_P.S. Thanks for the Bio notes. It saves me the trouble of having to pretend like I'm actually interested in class._

Alex didn't even try to work on his homework. He spent the next two hours writing and rewriting his response to Laurens, falling asleep next to a dozen crumpled pages, his lamp still on, completely forgotten.


	4. Noodles and Doodles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Good Stuff Starts Happening. TJeff shows up as the Food Messiah. Etc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunate chapter title because I could think of nothing better. Fitting, though.
> 
> 10 Things I Hate About You reference because that movie is gold

_Laurens,_

_Letters are perfect. Honestly, I’d much rather write all day than trudge through boring classes. Don't worry about your friends bothering me, I think they're wonderful. I mean, you've met Burr, so they couldn't be that bad. Looking forward to your next letter._

_Alex_

_P.S. If you ever need a hand with babysitting, I'd be more than willing; I live with a large lot of small children as well, so I'm used to it. I know this ice cream place that’s practically sleep medication for children, as ironic as that sounds._

* * *

 

Alex passed off his response to Laurens the first time he saw him during school the next day. Laurens gave him a wink in return, and Alex couldn't help but feel a  _familiarity_  between them. It was completely absurd; Alex hadn't even know Laurens for a week. But he felt as if they had already shared more than just a coincidence of meeting and a couple book recommendations. Alex couldn’t remember the last time he genuinely _wanted_ to get to know someone.

Since their meeting the night before, Angelica had proven to have an uncanny ability to hunt him down during school, even through the baffling maze of corridors and halls. Alex was more than a little bewildered, and suspected that she’d swindled a receptionist into giving her a copy of his schedule, but he brought up no such suspicions. Before seventh hour, she seemed to materialize out of nowhere when he turned the corner, then handed him a thick envelope, smiled, and rushed off to her next class. Baffled, Alex walked off to his next class and sat down at his desk before examining the heavy stack of papers.

Angelica had given him one of her finished articles with a fluorescent pink sticky-note attached that said, "Be my proofreader, please?" Alex smiled and paged through the papers until he found the article he had printed last night with red annotations scribbled all over the margins. Another sticky-note, this time it was bright orange, was stuck over the title. It read, in loopy, neat cursive, "I'll do yours in return ;D" Alex almost laughed out loud and started annotating Angelica's article right then, strategically ignoring his teacher’s lecture on eighteenth-century construction techniques. He had to read it over three times to get a decent number of edits on it (although it was still not even close to how many she had left on his), and it still took him half of study hall to finish. Angelica breezed into the library near the end of the day and smoothly found her way to his table in the back. It truly was unnerving how easily she was able to find him.

Smiling smugly, she read over his notes and shot him several expressive looks as she realized most of them were praise. They drafted and brainstormed a few more articles together, both of their pens jotting down an idea quickly before they exchanged papers, added a bit more to each other's thoughts, and passed them back. The whole week Angelica stayed late to work with him in the library before they caught the bus to The Legacy Paper together. Angelica seemed to have forced herself into his life, wedging herself in the cracks where she could, only to split them further and fill them again. Soon those bus rides became a routine, along with Angelica or Eliza driving him home from work or stopping at a café after school.

Alex had never really like being around people all the time. But it seemed like people liked being around him. It confused him more than a little, but he couldn’t say he minded being with those particular people.

Angelica managed to find him at other times as well. At lunch on Thursday, she approached his table with the authority of a queen, declaring "I'm sitting here. Hi Alex," as all the guys stared on, dumbfounded. Alex got over it quickly, as he’d been getting used to Angelica's brashness, said ‘Hi’ and waved to her and she smiled back at him. Laurens and Lafayette looked at Alex questioningly, who gave them a look in return, and they shrugged it off and went back to their lunch. Mulligan, however, was concerned, confused, and cracking his knuckles at the fact that someone had trumped in on his territory.

"Who are you?" he asked Angelica.

She responded calmly, as if nothing was out of place. "Angelica Schuyler." Realization dawned on the table and they all gaped at her. She held out her hand to Hercules, which he studied for a moment before taking. "I work with Alexander." Mulligan’s stare then shifted back to Alex, who shrunk as far down as he could into his uniform mandated coat, avoiding eye-contact with either of them. This was why he didn't like having friends. More than one friend, more precisely.

"Oh, really? Well, what makes you think that you’re just welcomed to sit here? Alex hasn't said anything about you."

Angelica locked eyes with Mulligan and Alex saw him visibly recoil. "Who's saying I _can't_ sit here? You?"

Mulligan was blushing too much to respond. Lafayette's cheeks were puffed with repressed laughter. After he had calmed down he leaned over to Angelica and whispered, "I like you."

Angelica responded in his ear, "And I like your hair."

Lafayette didn't stop smiling for the rest of lunch.

Laurens was still looking at Alex like " _Who exactly is this chick and why is she turning my friends into blushing blubbering idiots?_ " Alex tried to motion " _I'll explain later_ ," but he wasn't sure how well it came across. Laurens nodded, nevertheless.

From then on, Mulligan grunted in agreement whenever Angelica said nearly anything, and fiddled with his coat buttons and mumbled whenever she said anything directly to him. Alex thought it was sort of cute, but wasn’t about to so much hint it to either of them.

Eliza and Angelica were now sitting at their table regularly, and Alex had trouble digesting how large his social circle was growing. It was giving him anxiety. But as much as it troubled him, he found himself thoroughly enjoying every moment he spent with these people.

Alex had never been too fond of unneeded changes, but he was slowly realizing that this was something he had needed. For a long time, now.

* * *

Alex sat down at his desktop (newly claimed, since dueling with Angelica over his rightful computer was not something he was very keen on doing) and didn't get up. Not that he noticed or particularly cared.

He wrote and wrote and wrote. When his fingers cramped, he read over other articles and researched and fact checked for new ones. He compiled all of the ideas and drafts that he and Angelica had jotted down that week into finished, or at least partially finished, documents. They messaged their articles back and forth to each other with edits and revisions. While they worked single-mindedly, Burr proofread a few pieces before staring blankly at his screen for prolonged amounts of time, blindly clicking and attempting to keep his eyes open. He looked like Alex had on Monday, which was saying that he looked pretty much dead.

At some point, Angelica set down a cup of coffee next to Alex, but he didn't even notice it was there until it was lukewarm.

Angelica and Burr stayed at the desks beside him throughout the night. He imagined Angelica stayed because of a personal challenge she made for herself, and Burr for pride, both because they didn't want to be outdone.The glow of their screens was soon the only light in the office as the other workers trickled out along with the sunlight. Alex wasn't sure whether leaving interns, even though they were _paid_ interns, alone was policy or not, but he wasn't planning on questioning it just then.

Typing attentively, Alex's eyes didn't shift from his screen, but he nearly jumped out of his seat when he felt a light pressure on his shoulders.

"Alex," Angelica said, concerned, but the tone of her voice left no doubt that it was an order, "You need to take a break. It's been almost six hours."

Startled, Alex rubbed his eyes, looked at the clock, the windows, the empty room, and saw that she was correct. It was well past ten o'clock, and they were the only ones left, and he and Angelica seemed to be the only ones left conscious, judging by the frequency of Burr's snores. Alex didn’t even know why Burr was still there. He’d obviously had a rough day. When he woke up Alex would tell him to go home. If he didn’t wake up, well, at least his sleep pattern would be uninterrupted.

When he tried to move, Alex's limbs felt weighted, his muscles sore from dormancy.

Angelica sighed, pulled out her phone and started tapping at it. "Look, I am totally up for pulling an all-nighter," with that proposition, Alex heard Burr awaken and groan adamantly in displeasure of the idea, "but I. Am. Hungry." She put the phone up to her ear, the dial tone ringing in the quiet room.

Alex nodded. "A break would be good." Burr visibly sighed and sunk gratefully into his cushioned spinning-chair. Alex didn’t bother trying to get a word in with him.

Angelica smiled and nodded in Alex’s direction, as if saying, "That's obvious."

All of a sudden, her face lit up, her lips stretching into the smile that Alex could only describe as “gleefully diabolical”, and she motioned to them excitedly while clasping a hand over the receiver.

"It's Jefferson!" she whispered sharply. Alex followed her gestures and went and stood beside her, as close to the phone speaker as he could. Burr put his face in his hands, his curses muffled.

"-what can I do for you today?" Alex heard a melodically accented voice say through the speaker. Retrieving her air of professionality, Angelica responded moderately.

"Yes, I'll be needing-"

"AngelicAAAAA SCHUYler!" Jefferson declared joyously, loudly, as if he was announcing her name as a competitor in a wrestling match. His drawl only made it worse. Angelica winced and pulled the phone away from her ear.

"Hi, Thomas. As I was saying-"

"Angelica Schuyler. What can I do for you on this fine evening?" Jefferson inquired in a way that Alex could only describe as seductively.

Angelica let his question hang for a moment before she answered, "You could take my order."

Jefferson was silent. "Riiight," cracked through the receiver after a long moment.

"I need a large order of Thai chicken-"

"No can do, sugar. As much as I wish I could get you some saucy chicken, I'm afraid I cannot."

Angelica huffed, frustrated. "Why can't you guys have a menu that doesn't change daily?"

"Alright, first of all, it changes monthly. Secondly, I don't make the rules. And I don't follow them, either, sweetheart." If there was a vocal way to convey an eyebrow-waggle, Alex was pretty sure Jefferson just had.

Angelica was unperturbed and ignored his advanced unabashedly. "What  _do_  you have on the menu?'

"It's Italian this month."

"Then I'll get a family sized mostaccioli and four orders of breadsticks."

"Whoa, are you having a party without me? That's cold, Schuyler. Just. Plain. Cold."

"How much will it be, Thomas?"

"Thirty dollars and eighty-nine cents. Where am I to delivery this fine meal to, for a far finer lady, if I may add? Her welcoming abode, perhaps?"

"No, you may not add, and The Legacy Paper off of South-"

"Hey, doesn't Madison work there?"

"Not anymore."

Pause. The speaker crackled. After several moments of silence, Alex couldn’t help but think that Jefferson had bolted.

Finally, he said, "What did you do, eat him or something?"

"He's your friend. Couldn't you ask him?"

Jefferson sighed, defeated, and there was a rustling on the other end. "Aight. Are you absolutely sure that there is nothing else I can help you with tonight?"

"Thomas, stop flirting with me. John will kick your ass.  _I'll_  kick your ass."

Alex was alarmed, surely Angelica couldn't have meant Laurens, John. Not John Laurens. But that was the only John he knew.  _Lots of people are named John, idiot_ , he told himself. Both he and Angelica had decked two different ones. Even still, after Angelica finished her order, he would have to ask.

"Fine, fine. I concede. I'll be there in 15 minutes, but I believe I can be there sooner if a certain someone would agree to-"

"Goodbye, Thomas," Angelica sharply hung up, and turned to Alex, laughing.

"Jefferson's infuriating, but it's just _so much_ fun to mess with him. I can’t resist. He talks big, but he's as harmless as a puppy. An over-confident, swaggered, annoying puppy."

Alex laughed with her, before asking, "Who’s John?"

Angelica's smile shrunk away. "Oh. John Church, my boyfriend."

Alex wasn't sure if he was relieved or even more unnerved than before. Angelica had never mentioned a boyfriend. In her defense, Alex had only known her a week. But still, wasn’t that something you just _told_ people? _Whatever,_ Alex decided. It wasn’t like he had any relationship experience to know for himself.

Burr rubbed his eyes and whined. "Seriously? You're still going out with that guy? Surely you can do better than him, Schuyler."

"And who's better? You?"

Alex had to laugh; he had roughly said the same thing to Burr just a few days previous. Burr sat up, his eyes cast down, a smile playing at his lips.

"Sorry, I'm taken. Could have, should have, would have, Angelica."

Angelica snorted charmingly. Alex felt like he was watching a fencing match. "You must be referring to someone else if you think _I_ would have gotten with you if I’d had the opportunity. I have _standards_ , Burr. Speaking of which, you’re not saying you - no, not Miss Perfect Theodosia? Oh, what a killer name, huh? How do you write love poems with that kind of name, Burr? 'Dear Theodosia / Your lips taste like ambrosia. / Hey, why doncha / cheat on yo' boyfriend like I told ya? / 'Cuz I just wanna hold ya.'" Alex tried to cover his laughing with a cough, but Burr threw him an icy glare. "How did you murder her previous boyfriend? Oh, well, I guess my question becomes," Angelica leaned next to Burr, her hands on the back of his chair, and whispered in conspiracy, "where did you hide the body?"

"I didn't have to do anything of the sort. He got a scholarship out in England. Now he's gone, and she's mine, and that's all that matters."

"Oh, I bet she just fell into your arms after he left."

"She was in my arms long before that."

Angelica's eyes widened, her back straightened, and a satisfied smile spread across her regal features as she crossed her arms.

"My, my. I wouldn't have expected that, not from you, Burr."

"I think you would have. Nevertheless, you need to learn not to underestimate people, Schuyler. Or overestimate yourself."

Angelica's stance didn't waver, but she gave Alex a loathsome look and stuck out her tongue as if she were gagging as she turned and strolled back towards him.

"What about you, Alex? You got a special someone, hm?" she asked, settling down next to him, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Oh, yeah. I've been hitting up all the hotties in the month that I've lived in New York. All the  _available_  ones, I should clarify, since Burr seems to have the unavailable handled." Angelica and Alex laughed with each other, while Burr sat stoic in his chair, sighing before focusing again on his computer screen, dutifully ignoring them.

"No, really, I'm serious," Angelica said, keeping her attention focused on him as they leaned against the desks. "Surely there's a girl. Or a guy, hey, I don't know what you like. But someone as charming as yourself-"

"I came here to study, not snog," Alex said, less defensively than he would have if it had been anyone else. "But, clearly, you're far more talented than me if you can manage both."

Angelica smiled and grabbed his arm as there was a knock at the door. She locked her eyes with his and her ferocity had him pulling away in fear of her anticipation.

"He's here," Angelica announced quietly to Alex. She strode up to Burr and crooned, "It's time for the show," before she made her way to the door.

"THE FOOD MESSIAH IS HERE," Jefferson declared upon arrival. Angelica motioned for him to enter, but the action was unnecessary. He strolled in, dropped a heap of packaged take-out on the first desk he came across, and set his hands on his hips. The visor he was wearing made him look like an angry mushroom, his thick hair condensed into a cloud above his head.

"Man, have you guys been here all night? What did I miss?"

"Hourly cult rituals, infidelity, the parade of Golden Girls for The New York Nudity Society out on the Ave., three presidential assassination attempts, and the polar ice caps melting," Angelica filled him in curtly. “Oh, and dolphins going extinct. Bell bottoms are back in style, too. Just thought you’d like to know.”

"Hm." Jefferson assessed the room, and gave very little care about Burr passed out at the desk, but when he turned around to see Alex behind him, he froze. "Who is this?"

Alex went to answer, but Angelica beat him to it.

"This is Alexander Hamilton, my co-worker. He goes to Prep."

"Ah, he's a  _Prep_."

"Thomas."

"Baby, you gotta stop saying my name like you actually care, or I might think you do."

Alex was bewildered at how quickly Jefferson went from criticizing to flirting. Between Angelica’s quick wit and Jefferson’s conversation tactics, it was like watching a tense game of professional ping-pong.

Angelica rolled her eyes and ripped open a bag of breadsticks. "Oh, that's cute, you think I care."

"Aw, I know you care. A little bit, at least."

"Oh, am I that transparent? I want you, I need you, oh baby, oh baby."

Jefferson waggled his eyebrows. "Now that's what I like to hear."

Alex groaned internally and held out his hand as a distraction. "Hi, I'm Alex. I've heard  _so much_  about you."

Finally relenting from the task of averting Angelica's very well divided attention (she had already eaten half a bag of breadsticks, even through her banter with Jefferson), Jefferson took more time to study him. Under his scrutiny, Alex felt himself squirm, even though he hated himself for doing so. His out-stretched hand itched.

After a severe assessment, Jefferson finally took his hand.

"Thomas Jefferson. I hope what you've heard about me has been pleasurable and enlightening," he cast a glance at Angelica, who was obliviously and joyously plowing into a mountain of mostaccioli.

"Oh, definitely."

Jefferson pulled away and began to walk around the office. "So, what's the big deal with this operation?"

"It's a newspaper," Alex informed him, unimpressed.

"Uh huh. And you write?"

"I'm an intern."

"Really? You're on the bottom rung?" Jefferson paused and pouted, considering this.

"Angelica's an intern too. As was your friend, what was his name, Madison?"

Angelica made a noise of agreement from behind her food.

Jefferson sniffed. "I don't even know why he was working here. Last year we both were working at another paper on the other side of the city."

"Were?"

Jefferson looked at him incredulously. "You're curious, a little, aren't you?"

"And you're avoiding my question, a little, aren't you?" Alex suddenly regretted his words. He didn't mean to start a fight, but he felt the air between him and Jefferson go cold. Angelica stopped chewing on her noodles.

Jefferson laughed. "Say, I like you. I think we'll get along just fine, as long as you don't go after my girl," he said, winking at Angelica, who shouted what were most definitely curses, but were muffled behind her mouthful. Alex only hoped she saved him some, both profanities and Italian food.

Swallowing, Angelica pointed her finger at the door, said, "Jefferson, I think you've overstayed your welcome." Then she pointed a different finger in a different direction.

Jefferson held his hands up in defeat, and leisurely followed Angelica's directions to the door, whistling all the while. He started to say something once he was passed the threshold, but Angelica slammed the door on his puckered lips.

She spun on her heel so she was facing Alex again, grinning like a maniac. "Well, now that  _that_  is taken care of, shall we eat?"

Angelica magically produced Styrofoam bowls, which she overfilled with warm mostaccioli, topped with fresh bread sticks and handed to him along with a plastic fork that appeared out of nowhere. They ate sitting crisscrossed on the floor, their laughter mingling with the pattern of Burr's snores. Once they got too loud, Burr woke up, and he left without Alex having to tell him to or even taking a breadstick.

The clock soon declared midnight, and both Alex and Angelica agreed that they had to call it a night. They caught the bus home together; the Schuyler's only lived a few blocks away from him, like Laurens. It was a good thing that he had someone riding with him. He didn't even know that the buses ran that late.

Midway through their ride, Angelica laughed after reading over an alert on her phone. "Jefferson finally realized I never paid him."

Alex was so tired that he found himself laughing until his stomach hurt and every breath was a gasp. Angelica was dying right along with him, and when he saw the all-too-familiar street approaching, he felt his whole body dreading it. When he stood, Angelica looked concerned.

"Do you have far to walk?" she asked, like a parent, frantically examining the dark night on the other side of the window, only able to make out the blurred street lights. Alex would have been annoyed, but coming from Angelica it was sweet and comforting.

"Nah, just to the corner. Goodnight, Angelica."

"Good morning, Alex," she held up her phone to him and smiled. It was far past one. Alex was glad he didn't have a curfew to abide to, but he still imagined the Livingstons getting anxious at his long absence.

Alex waved to Angelica as he stepped off the bus, the cool night air hitting him like a smack. The bus pulled away, and he walked home in the dark, feeling both heavier and lighter, if that was possible, than when he had left it the previous morning.

* * *

 

Alex woke up to blindness on Saturday. He didn't remember bringing a sun into his room, but he stumbled around, desperately fumbling for the blinds to block out the unwelcome light.

His fingers were jittery and slow at the same time, his senses were awake, but his brain wasn't.

He was exhausted.

Groaning regretfully, Alex peeled his eyes open, rubbing them furiously to keep himself with the living as he dragged himself into a cold shower.

It didn't really wake him up; it just made him miserably tired as well as cold. The rest of the house was already awake. Children's screams of delight and the smell of a well-cooked breakfast wafted up from the first floor.

Alex started to make his way down to the world of the living, but collapsed at the top of the stairs instead, immediately asleep.

And when he woke up again, it was only because there were three small children jumping on his stomach and shouting, "Alex has a friend!"

That was news to him, and he was too out of sorts to try to shove the kids off of him. So he just let them jump on him until his vision stopped blurring.

Soon, Mrs. Livingston was trotting up the stairs, and graciously picked the children off of him.

"Alex," she said brightly, as if she hadn't just found him completely passed out at the top of her stairs after being out all night. "There's someone here to see you."

Alex mumbled something and slowly stood up, still half asleep, unable to question who would come to his house to see him specifically.

He wasn't really surprised when he saw that it was Laurens.

Or maybe he was just too tired to be surprised.

"Laurens, hey,” he mumbled, trying to disguise his sleepiness. “What are you doing here?"

"I need your help."

Only then did Alex notice the nervous way Laurens was twisting the hem of his sweatshirt, and the lack of a smile.

"Okay."

* * *

 

They didn't take the bus. Laurens navigated quickly through a maze of deserted streets, the houses getting bigger as they went on, but Alex barely noticed that over the fact that Laurens was gnawing on his lip and didn't say a word the entire time. Alex didn't ask for an explanation, thought he wanted to. He knew well enough that one would come when it was needed.

After a silent eternity, Laurens finally turned into the driveway of a sprawling mansion and practically ran to the door. Alex had a hard time getting his dead legs to match Laurens stride, they kept falling asleep on him. Thankfully, Laurens was too preoccupied to notice Alex looking like an idiot.

"I am a terrible brother," Laurens blurted out as he led Alex to the entryway of his house. There were no siblings anywhere in sight.

"What? What are you talking about?"

Laurens was running up the stairs, trying to explain as he went, but most of it was panicked gasps. "I have no idea how to handle anything. No wonder – I can't even. Oh, god, when did I become so _stupid_?"

Halfway up the stairs, Laurens halted and turned around. Alex nearly plowed into him, but caught himself at the last moment. "You're good with kids, right?"

Alex normally would have shrugged, but by the pleading in Laurens' eyes, he could tell that that wouldn't be a reassuring answer. "Yeah," he answered. Laurens turned again and they ran up the rest of the steps.

At the top, Laurens tilted his head back and closed his eyes, just breathing for a few moments before he did anything else.

Laurens led Alex down the hall and opened the door to a posh pink bedroom where a little girl sat up on the bed, her face green. The room, for all its cotton-candy like décor, smelled strongly of sour vomit.

"She's been throwing up all day. Nothing helps. I don't want to call a doctor if I don't have to. The housekeeper isn't here on weekends, neither is the nanny, since I'm here, but Alex, I have no idea what to do and I'm so _scared_ -" he cut himself off there. Alex looked over the scene, the girl, the ice cream bucket full of puke in her lap, and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing or sighing at Laurens’ distress.

"Do you think she's dying?"

"Do  _you_  think she's dying?" Laurens asked, his eyes bulging and his hands fluttering.

"No, no, no. Does she get sick like this a lot? Does she have any kind of condition?"

Laurens shook his head. "No, that's what has me worried." Whispering, he added, "But what if she does?" He groaned horrifically, and mumbled something along the lines of “I should have called a doctor, oh my god.”

Alex looked at Laurens, then looked again at his sister. He took a few tentative steps toward the child, who was moaning and most definitely going to puke again sometime soon.

"Hey," he waved, and the girl finally looked up at him from behind her bucket. "I'm Alex. What's your name?"

"Martha," the girl croaked.

"Hi, Martha. You're not feeling so good, huh?"

"Obviously," she sighed. Alex hadn't expected such potent sarcasm from such a small child and drew back. He frowned appreciatively, then composed himself.

"Well, what's wrong?"

"My stomach wants to die. Is dying."

"Does it feel like it's moving, sort of? Like twisting, or churning?"

Martha nodded enthusiastically.

"Anything else wrong?"

"My head hurts a little."

"Hm. Okay."

Alex turned back to Laurens. Those eyes.

"Laurens-"

"Yes?"

"I think she's just sick. Like she ate something bad."

"…What?"

"Laurens, children do get sick sometimes. You’ve been sick before, right?"

Laurens looked at Alex but didn’t answer, pure disbelief on his face. Then he looked back at his sister, and to Alex, and again.

"Really," Alex said, once again trying not to laugh, "she probably just needs to get it out of her system. And lots of water. She'll be fine by tomorrow."

Finally, a small bit of understanding twitched at Laurens' lips.

They stood there, looking at each other silently, until Martha threw up again. Laurens gave Alex a look, sighed, then went to clean out the bucket.

* * *

 

Laurens was laughing, so Alex was laughing too. Laurens had set up an ice cream sundae station at the long island in the kitchen after the other kids had realized he was home. They hounded him, and he caved, as long as they agreed not to tell Martha, which of course they did right away when Laurens ordered them to bring her a glass of water. Now, there was an even bigger mess in the making, sprinkles flying and syrup smeared across the countertops, but all of that was okay because Laurens was smiling.

"Wow," he said, after a long bout of laughing. "I am so bad at this."

"No, you're not," Alex assured him. "You're just a bigger drama queen than I expected." Laurens snorted through his ice cream. "Still," Alex said. "How did you know where to find me? I never told you where I lived, exactly, and I can't imagine you knocked on every door on the street."

"Angelica."

Alex laughed. "I shouldn't be surprised."

"You really shouldn't." Pretty soon the room was overtaken by joyous screaming until the kids had shoved the youngest, Mary's, face into her ice cream. She was smiling, but stickily. Laurens sighed and started cleaning up the mess, a small smile playing on his lips as his brothers and sister danced around him.

As Laurens mopped up discarded toppings, Alex discreetly did the dishes, until Laurens noticed what he was doing and told him that he didn't need to do that.

"I can handle putting some plates in a sink, Laurens."

"I don't doubt that, but that doesn't mean you have to."

"Well, of course I don't _have to_ , but that doesn't mean I won't."

That was the end of it.

While they were working, Alex caught glances of spidery lines that trickled down from Laurens' arms, only visible with his sleeves pushed up, but he said nothing. Not until he got a closer glance, anyway.

"Whoa," he said. "Do you draw? Because those are the most skilled arms doodles I've ever seen."

Laurens looked alarmed. He fingered at the hem of his sleeve but realized it was too late to pull it down and cover the ink. "Oh, yeah, it's nothing, I-"

"You're really good." Alex grabbed Laurens arm and examined the drawings, and only after realizing what he had done pretended to be casual. "Seriously."

Laurens smiled, embarrassed but trying not to show it. The children had dispersed, and Laurens' blush was now the loudest thing in the room. "Thanks, but those are just when I get bored. They're nothing."

"Are you saying you've actually done better than this? Because this is some serious doodling right here."

Laurens laughed and pulled his arm away smoothly. "Yeah, really. I have some things you can look at, just wait here." Laurens disappeared into the foyer, leaving Alex alone. He went and sat on a stool, waiting patiently but eagerly. Only with Laurens absent did he notice how rich the orange light was outside, and how far the shadows cast darkness across the city. The sound of laughter pattered lightly on the upstairs walls, and Alex found himself in a moment of calm. It was a peculiar feeling.

Laurens waked back into the kitchen and motioned for Alex to follow him into the family room, which he did, quietly and obediently.

There was a stack of square sketchbooks on the coffee table in front of the love seat. Laurens settled onto the right side, and Alex sat on the left.

"Most of those are old, lots of random sketches and watercolors," Laurens motioned to the books casually, though his shoulders were tense, "But you can look through them. I don't mind."

Alex placed his hand on the top one lightly. "Are you sure?"

Laurens only nodded, not looking at Alex, and picked up  _Four Past Midnight_ off the side table, the spine cracking when he opened it.

Alex took the top book off the pile. It covered his lap easily and he had to be careful not to smack himself in the face when he opened the large cover.

Looking at the first page he gasped quietly. It was a watercolor landscape of a moon setting in the sky as the sun was rising, overlapping, until the moon was haloed by the sun's rays. Alex couldn't even tell where the brush strokes were. His eyes were distracted by the small details and the intricate patterns where the lights met, until you could barely tell where one ended and the other began.

He paged through the first book breathlessly, in awe and amazement. Neither of the boys said anything. Alex picked up the next one gingerly, not wanting to damage it or leave any kind of unwanted mark. The second book had more portraits, eyes and hairlines sketched over and over, the back of a woman's head, a man's jawline. Alex turned to a portrait of a serious, sophisticated woman. Her dark hair was twisted across her left shoulder, and despite the cold tilt of her chin, her china-blue eyes gleamed with warm humor as they looked out from the page.

"My mom," Laurens said, and the past, somber tone of his voice told Alex everything before Laurens said any more. "She died a few years ago, after Mary was born."

"Mine, too." Sharing a silence that held more sympathy and sorrow than words ever could, Alex fought to find something else to say. "She's beautiful,  so’s your art," Alex said softly, after a while.

"Thanks. I don't usually like drawing people like that, or at least people I know. But I figured I should have something for the littler ones to remember her, you know? Like how she was, not when she was dressed up for parties and pictures."

"Yeah." Alex wished he had something like that, wished his brother had been as caring as Laurens.

Alex didn't know if he could turn the page after that. Luckily, Laurens gave him an excuse not to by closing his own book and talking. He always seemed willing to tell Alex anything about his life, which was something Alex was not used to in the slightest. He’d always hidden himself, and others had hidden from him. Not Laurens, though. Something in his chest tightened and he took small breaths.

"You know, sometimes I feel like I have to miss her for them. Mary was a baby, Jem was five. They don't remember her, but I do, and it's sort of like I owe my memories to them." He got quiet. Alex didn't know how to reply. "Do you have any siblings, Alex?"

"No younger ones."

"Brothers or sisters?"

"A brother."

"And he didn't move here with you?"

"He wouldn't have even if I’d asked him to." Alex turned the page, only to find a scene of all the Laurens children smiling that smile and dancing, looking happier than Alex had ever felt. His gut twisted and he felt like crying, but he pushed it away with a smile.

"You're so cute, such a doting big brother."

Laurens laughed and tried to hide his face in his hands. "Aw, man, that's just embarrassing. I got a reputation to maintain."

"I think it's great. It adds to your character."

"Well, thanks."

Alex continued paging through and marveling at Laurens' art, each piece, pencil line, paint splash a new thing for Alex to record in his mind. Laurens didn't pick up his book again, just smiled, looking down at his hands, though his sleeves stayed over his arms, covering the doodles. At some point, Alex's exhaustion caught up with him, and he fell asleep on the loveseat, oblivious when, later in the night, Laurens got up, grabbed a pen and paper, and sketched his sleeping outline, lightly, tentatively, desperately. The sun came up the next morning to cast light onto Laurens and Alex, leaning on each other's shoulders, still fast asleep.


	5. Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IN 19th CENTURY RUSSIA WE WRITE LETTERS, WE WRITE LETTERS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Bonus playlist at the end because I took too long to post this originally and felt bad ;))
> 
> (Leigh Bardugo/Grisha quote. Credit where it's due.)

 

{Left in Alex's mailbox, early morning, Saturday, September 26}

_Alex,_

_Okay. I am going to bombard you with questions. I'm sorry. (Actually, I'm not.)_ _These are the things that I think are necessary to know about someone early on in their acquaintanceship (I asked Laf and Herc the same things, you are NOT a special snowflake, Alex.)_

_Answer as you please, or if you don't want to answer at all just, like, shred this letter or something. But don't think I'll forget._

-  _What do you think is the most defining characteristic of someone?_

-  _Hogwarts house/Patronus (yes, even_ I've _read Harry Potter)_

-  _Do you believe that the universe is infinite?_

-  _On a scale from 1 to 10, 1 being not at all, how ticklish are you?_

-  _Soda or coke?_

-  _How do you want to die?_

-  _Oxford Comma?_

-  _How good are you at math?_

-  _What do you want out of life?_

_Sincerely, Laurens_

* * *

 

{Slipped in Laurens' backpack while they were at the library, Saturday, September 26}

_Laurens,_

-  _How they walk and what they think about when they don't have to think about anything._

_\- Ravenclaw/A bearded dragon. I don’t know why, but it works._

_\- What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men._

_\- I am not telling you that._

_\- Um, Coke is a soda? I still like Pepsi better._

_\- Quickly and loudly._

_\- Always._

_\- Laurens, if this is another ploy to get me to do your homework… (also: passable.)_

_\- Everything I can get my hands on and a side of fries, please._

_Most truly, Alex_

* * *

 

{Handed to Alex by a bleary-eyed Laurens at the start of Biology, Monday, October 5}

_Alex,_

_Ow. Whoever let Herc bring all the food and be the DJ last night should be thoroughly executed. My head is still throbbing._

_Ugh._

* * *

 

{Dropped on Lauren's desk at the beginning of American History, Monday, October 5}

_Laurens,_

_That was you. You let Herc bring the food and be the DJ. Be glad you can feel your head throbbing, because, by your own decree, you won't have one for long._

_Alex_

_P.S. You fell asleep three times in English. I know Salinger isn't the greatest, but c'mon, man._

* * *

 

{Left in Alex's mailbox, very early morning, Saturday, October 24}

_Alex,_

_You live in a house of children. You know how it is. But I literally just left all my siblings alone after giving charge to Martha. I told them that I was going to get the mail and I just kept walking until I put this in your mailbox, or I will, I don't know. Writing about what I'm going to do with what I'm writing is confusing._

_This morning I woke up, went down to the kitchen to make some coffee because I’m always pretty dead in the morning, you know, just the usual, and when I got down there, Jemmy was wrapped in toilet paper, lying on the counter, with the three others running around and chanting "Wake the mummy, bring him life, wake him." They didn't even stop when I walked in. They just kept running and Jem made groaning noises and said, "The mummy cannot wake unless his followers bring him sacrifices of ice cream and ketchup." I just. Why must I live with this. Please help._

_In Hiding, Laurens_

After checking the mailbox to find that letter, Alex read it, and didn't even bother to reply before he walked over to Laurens' house.

* * *

 

{Thrown in with a random stack of Alex's papers, date unknown}

_Laurens,_

_Why do I love your smile so much? Why does it automatically make me smile too? Your smiles are always shared, and I don't know how to share mine with you. Mine are always for myself, but yours always have to go out to twenty different people in twenty different places for twenty different reasons, very few of them for yourself.. God, if I could give you back every single one of your smiles so they'd be for you, and only you…_

_Why am I writing this? This is ridiculous. How could you smile so much if you weren't happy? That's the other thing. Your smiles are always genuine, never for another purpose or reason. How could you fake that? I know I couldn't, I've never been great at faking how I feel. I can act and lie and I've done plenty of both to get where I am. But, just…_

_But then why are your eyes always sad even when you smile? Why are you so heavy when you smile, instead of light like when you're just walking or thinking or doing anything else? Is it all an act?_

_Laurens, why are you not happy?_

_If I could just… If I could…_

_I don't know what to do with you. Or this letter. Arhg._

* * *

 

"Wait, you  _actually told him to-_ " Eliza asked Alex, gasping, barely able to get the words out because she was laughing so hard.

"I did," Alex assured her, grinning. Again, he was grateful for the privacy of his little corner in the library. No librarians came shushing him, no patrons were disrupted by his exaggerated storytelling. Eliza covered her mouth self-consciously to smother her laughter, despite the seclusion.

What had begun as a French history study session had turned into  _something else_.

Eliza was finally able to breathe again. Alex smiled happily, simply because Eliza was happy. Her happiness was contagious, as was her kindness, and he had found out early on that Eliza always had something to give, even if it was just a smile. She had saved him on more than one occasion by letting him copy the last few translations of their French homework, as work had him slacking off a tad. She helped out at the homeless shelter, babysat for free on the weekends, and after he had her become more familiar with the library, she volunteered there, too. Alex couldn't understand how she found all the hours in the day.

Eliza was finally able to pick her head up from the table. Her face was split with a smile, her eyes shining. "Wow. What a story."

"If I hadn't been there I wouldn't have believed it myself."

They sat, staring at each other stupidly, a moment of shared humor, for far longer than what was necessary. The vibrant golds, oranges, and browns that tinted the swirling leaves outside the window had nothing on Eliza's dark eyes.

Eliza broke from their gaze first, absently paging through her notes as a flush crept up her cheeks.

"Alright, back to Napoleon."

"What?" Alex asked. "Oh, right."

They glanced over their notes wordlessly for the next few minutes, before Eliza proclaimed, "I think I've had enough of reading about the woes of French aristocracy. You?"

"Definitely," Alex nodded enthusiastically and slammed his binder shut. Eliza laughed brightly as they stood.

Alex held the main door open for her as they walked out side by side into a beautiful early November afternoon. Eliza breathed in the fresh air, it was playing with her hair and kissing her cheeks until they were flushed bright red. She looked perfectly at home, as if the very world was working to comfort her in any way it could, as if she could become a permanent fixture in its scenery.

In the near two months Alex had known them, he was still amazed at how different the ambiance of each Schuyler sister was. Being with Eliza was like stepping into cool water on a hot day and not having to worry about being swept away by the tide. Being with Angelica was like standing at the top of a cliff as the world stormed on underneath you, a safe haven in the chaos of nature, but still just inches from falling.

"Is walking okay with you?" Eliza asked.

"Oh, yeah, sure."

"So," Eliza began after they crossed the street, her waving to the drivers and pedestrians that they passed. "Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving break?"

"Nah. Just staying at home, catching up with studying, the usual," Alex answered casually.

"Ah. It's always nice to have a break."

"Indeed. Do you have plans?"

Eliza huffed and rolled her eyes. "The typical awkward family gatherings. I was hoping it would be a quieter get-together this year, but my father has invited nearly half the city, it seems. Not really 'family time,' if you ask me." Eliza shook her head. Then she turned and faced Alex.

"Hey, would you want to come? Like, it will be horrible, but at least we won't be alone." Eliza's eyes were big with hopeful anticipation.

Alex went through his mental calendar and smiled at Eliza. "That would be awesome. I'm pretty sure I have nothing going on. You know, other than studying, and writing, and going bored out of my mind."

Eliza smiled until she was practically glowing. She grabbed onto his arm excitedly, and Alex was so surprised that he almost pulled away. "Great! Well-"

"Oh," Alex interrupted, and then wished he hadn't once he saw Eliza's expression deflate. "I don't know if the Livingstons are planning anything. I don't know if I have to go along, or what…"

"Oh," Eliza said, still smiling politely.

"But I can ask, or maybe get out of it," Alex smoothed over quickly. Eliza grinned at him, her eyes sparkling.

"Awesome! Well, we'll see what happens, and I can just text you the details. Oh, on that note, I don't think I have your number," Eliza felt around her pockets for her phone.

"Ah, I'll see Angelica before I'll check my phone," Alex fibbed, almost too easily. He  _had_  been saving up for a phone, but he'd also been saving for other things. The other things usually came first.

Eliza laughed lightly. "Well, I'll be sure to send any info with her. I'm sure she'll be all too happy to. With that mouth of hers, she's almost destined to be an announcer or politician or something," Eliza teased affectionately. Alex smiled knowingly. In the recent weeks that he'd gotten to know the Schuylers at school or work and during  _this_  party and  _that_  city function that they had dragged him to, he had been able to witness their unbreakable bond first hand. He'd never seen people care about each other in the way that Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy did, how they would do anything for each other, no matter what any of them ever did, no matter what happened. They had each other to count on, a reliance between them that Alex was utterly unfamiliar with.

No matter how much Eliza teased her sister, he knew that the love between them was unconditional and unwavering.

Alex never had that with his brother.

"So," Eliza started casually as they made their way out of the busy streets and nearer to the houses. "How's work going? Angelica thinks you're amazing - though she'd never say it outright," Eliza added with a wink when Alex began to protest.

"It's pretty typical, I mean, writing stuff, but it's your sister who's the one with any talent. She puts me to shame every single day," Alex told Eliza truthfully. Eliza only laughed.

"Don't disregard your own abilities. It never does anyone any good."

Alex smiled sheepishly. "It's true, still. Angelica is great. I don't know what I'll do when she's gone, after she graduates. When it's just me and Burr." Rubbing his brow, Alex sighed tiredly at the thought of that future.

"Ugh,  _Burr_ ," Eliza scoffed and they both laughed.

"Aw, c'mon. What has he done to rile up even sweet ol' you?" Alex elbowed her with a smile, though he was genuinely curious.

Eliza seemed embarrassed from the comment, but her eyes softened and her slight smile told him that she really did appreciate it. "Well, it's just his general going-abouts. And those awful friends of his. I just feel, like… _icky_ when any of them are talking to me, you know?"

Alex nodded fervently. "I really do."

"It's just how Burr and all of them treat Angelica, and people in general that he's not on the best of terms with. And that  _girlfriend_  of his. Ugh," she laughed. "He just rubs me the wrong way. Like he'd rather watch and study you so he can uncover your weaknesses than engage in any kind of human interaction. Kind of like a robot. It's really uncomfortable, sometimes."

"I know exactly what you mean. Whenever we leave work at the same time I can’t help but look behind me to see if he’s following me home."

Eliza laughed, and Alex did too. The sky was turning purple, like Eliza's dress, and he wanted to reach out and hold her hand.

He didn't. They were nearly to her house. It really wasn't that long of a walk, which made Alex itch and his heart pound, like the few moments hadn’t been enough _._  He looked at the ground and felt the seconds tick by, forever unreachable.

They didn't say much else while they walked up to Eliza's family's mansion. Alex dropped her off at the door and had to keep himself from sprinting home. He had things he needed to write, homework he needed to do, and thoughts to think to get the startling idea of holding Eliza's hand out of his head. He started running down the quiet streets.

The stark difference between the sheer size of the Schuyler's place and Alex's was astounding, but Alex smiled as he slowed his pace up to the slightly cramped but always welcoming brick home. He grabbed the mail and shuffled through it as he ran up the steps. There was an unaddressed letter that only said  _Alex_ on the front, which usually meant a letter from Laurens. Alex smiled and broke the seal: a Scooby Doo sticker.

He set the Livingston's mail on the kitchen table and curled up in his favorite chair in the family room to read it. The kids were all up playing in their rooms, and Mr. and Mrs. Livingston paid him their friendly hellos as he sat across from them. It was a quiet night.

It was also quite late to be getting a letter from Laurens, but Alex hadn't been home all day. He was thankful that no one had gotten to it before him. The letter read:

_Alex,_

_So it seems like I’ll be alone with my siblings on Thanksgiving. Dad's busy, as per usual. I can’t say I’m surprised._

_Wow. This is my first Thanksgiving as head of the house. That's a scary thought, if you consider how I am just regularly babysitting._

_I know you work and we're on break, but would you like to join me? Like, Thanksgiving Eve and then you can stay over a bit? I don't think I can handle it alone. There's just too many children. Henry and Mary have been asking for you, anyway._

_If you can, Alex, please._

_Laurens_

Alex went up to his room. He didn't even need to think about his reply. He scrawled out a quick letter that had very few words on it and set it on his desk when it was done. He doubted it was even necessary, but he would give it to Laurens the next time he saw him. The letters were just for the two of them, after all.

This would be Alex's first proper Thanksgiving. And he actually had some things to be thankful for.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Playlist
> 
> Maybe / Next to Normal
> 
> King and Lionheart / Of Monsters and Men
> 
> I Got Life / Adam Pascal
> 
> Natasha and the Bolkonskys / The Great Comet of 1812
> 
> Get Up / Quietdrive
> 
> Burn / Hamilton (totally ironic, but it snuck up on me)
> 
> You and Me (But Mostly Me) / The Book of Mormon
> 
> White Winter Hymnal / Fleet Foxes
> 
> Santa Fe / Newsies
> 
> Love Affair / Regina Spektor
> 
> The Chronicles Of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe / Harry Gregson-Williams


	6. Thankful for Being Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: self harm mention. Not severe or negative at all, but I want you all to be safe <3
> 
> [END OF "PART 1"]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter pushed my word count so this was the longest thing I've ever written. Yeesha.

**TRIGGER WARNING:  Self harm/depressive thoughts.**

**Author's Note:  This chapter shall be the end of Part 1. Don't worry, it will still be posted in this fic and there's not going to be a huge time gap in the story or anything. I have no idea how many chapters there will be in Part 2 either, so don't assume that there will be six. Also, ya see that Trigger Warning up there? Yeah, I hope you do. I want to make sure that nothing brings up bad thoughts or anyone endangers themselves in any way by reading this, and although I don't believe those topics are handled in a negative, romanticized, or at all unhealthy way, I just want to make sure that everyone knows what's in store. If you want to read the chapter but don't want to read all those parts, of course, message me and I can give you a dumbed down summary of those parts along with the "safe" parts of the fic. No problem.**

**vAlso, y'all should listen to the Hunchback of Notre Dame Broadway Cast recording. It's boss.**

**This fic is officially the longest thing I’ve ever written. I can’t.**

**Enjoy, AND READ THE TRIGGER WARNING. SERIOUSLY. DON'T SAY I DIDN'T WARN YOU.**

On Thursday after the Livingstons had cleared house, Alex walked to Laurens' mansion alone with his backpack slung over his shoulder. Inside it was a few changes of clothes and not much else, and it thumped rhythmically on his back as he strolled down the streets. Few clouds threatened the sun and nice weather, but the wind stung, winter slowly creeping up on the bright November days. Alex shivered most of the way there.

There was the typical ruckus that came with arriving at Laurens' house. All the children had to individually say hi and get a piggy back ride from him before rushing off to whatever game they had been playing. Laurens then led him away from the noise, usually into the family room but occasionally to a different wing of the house, new and unfamiliar each time.

"There are so many different bedrooms, sometimes I think my parents planned to raise an army of children," Laurens would laugh.

This time, however, Alex did not get a tour. He followed Laurens straight to the kitchen. They had a job to do.

"I have no idea what we have for food, so don't even ask," Laurens smiled as he opened the refrigerator. He stared into it, pretending to study it carefully, but Alex could tell he was completely clueless. After a minute or so of that, Laurens slammed the door shut happily and spread his hands across the countertop.

"Well," he said. "Now, we simply have to figure out how to put all the food that the housekeeper left into some semblance of a Thanksgiving dinner that a small horde of children will actually eat."

"No small task," Alex grinned, mirroring the slant of Laurens’ lips.

"Ah, but no one better fit for the challenge that the two of us! Let us cook!"

"That is a terrible battle cry," Alex criticized, but helped Laurens pull out dishes from the fridge, setting them out in a frozen display on the counter.

Laurens took out a large platter of uncooked turkey and gasped, relieved, "Oh! There's a note with directions. God Bless you, Ms. Prichard." He kissed the paper then smoothed it out to examine.

They pulled out more and more food until the counter was covered in colorful entrees and glass dishes. They studied the buffet carefully, hesitantly, dreadfully.

"Do you think we can really eat all of this?" Alex asked, amazed at the display of food in comparison to the number of people who would be eating it.

"Well," Laurens said thoughtfully. "There's roughly enough food here to feed a starved battalion, and there's six of us, and the fact that none of this qualifies as junk food or candy and that those are ninety-percent of the food types that four of us eat, mathematically, I'd say probably not."

"Huh."

They stared at the food for another minute.

"You do potatoes, and I'll make Rice Krispy treats?" Laurens proposed.

"Sounds like a plan to me."

* * *

 

It took them a generous four hours, already well into the evening, but it was a Thanksgiving feast, indeed. There was a grand turkey in the center of the table that Laurens had decorated with googly eyes and a plume of fake feathers. They had cooked it mostly because they had no idea what to do with it otherwise, or how to get it out of the kitchen without breaking something. The younger kids barely gave it a glance, even though Laurens sneakily plopped a few slices onto each of their plates. Alex had put together more kinds of potatoes than he had ever seen in his life; mashed potatoes, cheesy potatoes, sweet potatoes topped with marshmallows and brown sugar, still warm. Laurens set out trays of crackers and frosting next to the bowls of gummy worms and candy corn. Two two-liter bottles of root beer had been poured into bright orange plastic cups.

When Laurens called his siblings down, the serene, perfectly plated table was pillaged until it resembled an abandoned candy store in a war zone. Laurens tried to help distribute the dishes to all the children, but their whirlwind threw him back, not before a blob of mashed potatoes hit him square in the chest. Alex laughed, and he and Laurens stood back and watched. Alex was only partially joking when he suggested that they hide under the coffee table.

After the storm dissipated and Laurens directed the kids into the living room, he and Alex sifted through the scraps before they joined. Laurens sat crisscrossed at the foot of the couch that the children had squeezed themselves on. Laurens clicked on the TV and the kids hushed instantaneously.

"What's this?" Alex asked as he sat on the floor next to Laurens. Martha's foot was next to his face but he didn't mind too much. Her fuzzy socks brushed his ear. The kids gasped and giggled at his question.

"A tradition," Laurens said as he started the movie.

They all laughed at the beginning when the girl said, "Isn't it peculiar, Charlie Brown, how some traditions just slowly fade away?" Alex had never seen this movie in his life, but the girl sort of reminded him of Angelica. He smiled at the thought.

The kids were glued to the screen – Laurens included – and Alex saw them all chuckle or giggle or smile whenever one of the characters said something overdramatically. He wasn't sure which was more entertaining; watching the TV, or the people on the couch.

When Linus and Snoopy helped Charlie Brown put together the Thanksgiving dinner for their friends, Alex couldn't help but think of the earlier ordeal in the kitchen, and Laurens winked at him knowingly.

They shared another glance when Peppermint Patty shouted, "What blockhead cooked all this?" though, this time, it was slightly worrisome as the kids snickered behind them.

When Charlie Brown's friends had all been invited to Grandma's house for Thanksgiving dinner and the show was over, the kids shouted intangible things as they jumped from the couch, trampling Alex and Laurens in the process. They fled up to their rooms, not without making a detour to the kitchen and snatching up a few handfuls of gummy worms on the way.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" Laurens shouted as his siblings rushed away without responding. Laurens sighed with a small smile on his face and shook his head lightly.

"Well," he said, turning to Alex. "What shall we do, now that  _that_ _’s_ over?"

Alex held his hands up. "Whatever." The boys looked at each other and shrugged, then followed the stampede of children up the stairs. They left them in their own rooms, however, and went to John's.

The pair flopped onto separate ends of the bed and gazed at the ceiling. After several moments of silence and staring at the unmoving ceiling fan, Alex felt an irrepressible urge to laugh, and didn't even try to hold it in. Laurens looked over at him sharply, a small smile playing the corners of his mouth.

"What?" He asked, incredulous but amused.

"I just-" Alex hiccupped, overcome with laughter, "I guess I'm just really thankful."

Laurens laughed with him, for no apparent reason other than that Alex couldn't stop, so they both laughed like that, honest and for no reason at all, until the breath came back into their lungs and the comfortable silence settled back over them.

Laurens eventually broke the silence with a simple question. At least, it seemed like it was a simple question with an even simpler answer. But in those words were more than a curious pondering, giddy interrogations or even a tired, laughing breath.

"Well, what are you thankful for?"

There was a moment between when the word left Alex's lips and when he heard himself say it, and that moment held more words and time and letters than the small breath he let out ever could. Because Laurens’ words were the key to the feeling he had been trying to decipher since the first day at the library. It was so much, yet so little, so effortless yet so heavy. It was what he had always needed to hear but had been deaf to until now, until he’d known enough to understand what it was. He didn’t need to hesitate, but he did anyway, because he had just been unlocked. "You."

The air was still, latching onto both of their breaths. It was like all the little fragments of time and thought and potential that they had left behind, on the soles of their shoes, in the pages of books, between laughs and breaths and whispers, in the scrawls of words they had given to each other, had been painstakingly put together until they all fit into one, perfect, unalterable image that was only seconds and a misstep away from shattering.

Laurens sat up and Alex followed, not sure if he was able to or should meet Laurens' eyes.

"You-" Laurens started.

"I-" Alex tried to interrupt anything Laurens was going to say, but he didn't have any words.

"Wait, you, I mean, _me_? I - " Laurens, for the first time, looked absolutely flustered, "you  _really-_ "

"Yes," Alex said, because there was no other answer.

And then they were both on their feet and then Laurens was  _right there,_ and he was kissing him. The space between them that was there moments ago vanished like it had never existed in the first place. Laurens' lips were warm against Alex's mouth, and as soon as Alex slowly opened his eyes, finally realizing what was happening, Laurens pulled away.

Laurens took a step back, looking absolutely terrified, and it was as if a chasm had broken between them, Alex in the middle of it, falling into empty air. He was suddenly freezing, feeling phantom shivers tickle his back and arms.

"Oh, shit," Laurens whispered, his hands shaking. "Oh, God, Alex, I'm-"

Before he could say another word Alex filled the loathsome space between them and kissed Laurens fiercely. When Alex pulled away, it was only so that he could say, "Don't be sorry."

Laurens fell into him, his arms, his kiss. Alex had never kissed or been kissed like that before, like the fold between seasons, like feeling tears run down your face, like everything in the world was concentrated in  _here_ and _now_. He fell into Laurens just as much as Laurens fell into him, and they both fell onto Laurens' bed, into each other's wanting embrace.

Both of their hands were tentative at first, holding tight to each other's wrists and arms. But Alex's soon wandered until his fingers were looped around Laurens' hair band and he pulled it out, and said, smiling against Laurens' lips, "You should wear your hair down sometimes."

Laurens only kissed him again in reply, his hands curled against Alex's neck, his thumbs at his cheeks.

There was no rushed desperation in their kisses, only understanding and patience and  _rightness_ and time. They were frozen, unable to convince their bodies to move away from each other. And when they finally stopped kissing, their faces were still touching, their breathing together, the sweet warm air between them shared, pulses rising and falling in sync.

All the words Alex had wanted to say to Laurens or should have said to Laurens before were gone. What they had just done had confessed all that was needed.

They weren't kissing anymore, just holding each other and  _knowing_. Alex felt every nerve in his body fraying where Laurens was against him, but the room around them stayed still, no matter how terribly his head was spinning. Alex was sure he would have gotten dizzy if he wasn't able to focus on Laurens. If Laurens touch wasn’t keeping him steady as it unwound him.

"Oh," was all Laurens said after they had been silent for a long while.

He hadn't needed to say anything for Alex to understand all that he meant.

Alex counted the freckles on Laurens' face and strung them together like constellations, giving each one its own story, its own life. When he kissed John Laurens, he felt like the both of them had become stars of their own, burning brightly, with no other purpose but to light up the sky until they burned out. In his mind, Alex strung the two of them together into an interwoven constellation of their own, their own story, their own lives, as they floated aimlessly across the sky.

Laurens kissed him delicately on the corner of his mouth, and Alex bit his lip. Laurens' kisses traveled up the bridge of his nose, to his eyelids so Laurens' lips were just brushing his eyelashes, to the bags under his eyes that frequented his appearance more often than not. Laurens' cheek rested against his, and neither of them said anything as the sound of each other's heart beats told them everything.

They stayed lying in each other's arms for a long time.

* * *

 

Laurens tucked each of the children into their beds and kissed them goodnight, though after he was gone they all tip-toed to Martha's room, armed with blankets and pillows and flashlights, sneaking away when they thought the boys wouldn't notice. They noticed, but didn't particularly care.

Alex and Laurens brought their own stash of sleeping bags and pillows downstairs with them and laid them out in front of the couch, now infested with crumbs and popcorn and grains of sugar.

"Okay, so what shall it be? Shitty late night talk shows, or more holiday children's programs from the 70s?" Laurens asked Alex with a deadpan, like the voice from an ad for a local hardware store. It was only a beat before they both burst out laughing for what seemed like no legitimate reason. It was alright, though. They both knew why they were laughing.

Laurens' sleeve hitched up a little as he reached for the remote. The small swirl of fresh ink around his wrist was only visible for a second, but Alex, being hypersensitive of every move Laurens made, noticed. He didn't ask then, but the image of dark twining lines that snaked their way up Laurens' arms wrapped around his brain until he had to ask.

"Hey, Laurens? You’re still doodling?" Alex asked with a smile. “What’s your mini masterpiece this time?”

"Oh…" There was a long pause, where Alex stared at Laurens' silhouette and Laurens looked anywhere but at Alex. "Nothing really, just plain doodles, I guess." It was slight, but his voice was taut with something that Alex couldn't quite identify.

"Can I see them?" Alex couldn't help being curious, especially when it came to John Laurens. Laurens, who he’d just kissed for what seemed like hours, who held him like he wanted to, who had the best goddamn smile in the world. Alex was always curious, but very rarely was his curiosity fed from such care.

Laurens squirmed, almost imperceptibly, but nodded and bared his arm for Alex to see.

It was so much like the drawings that filled Laurens’ sketch books, and still so foreign, deeper, darker. Alex was awestruck, feeling like he’d just been shot, the wound only getting deeper as he soaked more of it in. The designs were beautiful and intricate, twirling and twining across Laurens’ skin, though in some places jagged teeth bit into his skin, and the lovely rolling hills broke into serrated mountains, no misty clouds to grant them a reprieve from their severity.

Alex’s breathing stuttered. He always knew Laurens was a wonderful artist, knew that even his doodles were better than most masterpieces, but this didn't feel like absently scribbled lines. It was a part of Laurens he hadn't seen and hadn't expected. It was strange, beautiful, dark. Alex had never thought of Laurens as strange or dark before.

"Alex?" It was a whisper.

Alex was pulled from his admiration and into Laurens' timid eyes. Laurens hadn't flinched, but he looked as if he were trying to be as far away as he could. His bright eyes were heavy,  _ashamed_ , Alex realized.

Alex let his hand fall into Laurens' and he held it solidly, holding him and Laurens there together.

"It's beautiful. But I don't quite understand… Laurens?" Alex asked, trying to fill the space that Laurens was putting between them. His friend closed his eyes and breathed shakily but didn't shrink away anymore.

"I suppose," he said, in a small voice. Then he cleared his throat and broke their gaze, but still clenched Alex's hand. Alex wasn’t planning on letting him let go, anyway. "I… sometimes, when I'm really…" Laurens breathed again, deeply but sorely, like a wheeze. "When I feel, uh, lost, I, ah, a while ago I decided that it was better to create than to destroy. Now I just pick up whatever pen or marker is closest to me and I draw and draw and draw…"

"Until?" Alex asked. In his heart, he already knew the answer, but it squeezed and cried in his chest, not wanting to accept the hard truth.

"Until," Laurens' voice went even quieter than before. If they hadn't been right next to each other Alex wouldn't have been able to hear him. "Until I don't want to trade the pen for a blade anymore."

Alex felt it coming, but it still hurt to hear. His arms ached as if the marks on Laurens' skin were being burned into his as well.

He was even more surprised when Laurens laughed.

It wasn't like his other laughs, though, the ones Alex knew he took for granted but didn't know any other way that he could take them. It was cold and pathetic and hollow and shameful. It was not a sound that Laurens should be making.

"Sometimes it's not even my choice, I just fall asleep before I can go that far, or one of the kids needs me. So it sort of turns into left over waste, and it just kind of fills me up. I don't know what's going to happen when I get too full," Laurens managed to croak out. Both he and Alex were staring at their intertwined hands. “I haven’t actually _done_ anything for a while, actually, but I don’t like to think about things getting better, because, well, they don’t, really…”

Alex had no words. There was nothing he could say to possibly tell Laurens how he felt. He squeezed Laurens' hand until he was certain he had cut out circulation in both of theirs, but neither of them loosened the grip. Their words had failed them and this was all they had.

Alex tried to choke out a few words, but there was only breath. Laurens spoke instead, his voice more certain but less steady.

"There were still really bad times when I was nearly out of control. I’d come home from school and I would just be _dead_. I wouldn’t move for hours and when I did I wanted to… just rampage and wreck everything that I could. I couldn’t sleep. Of the times I really went that far, I, I have scars because I wouldn't let them just heal and vanish like nothing had happened. There's one on my arm, one on my hip, another on my ankle, and one between my pointer finger and thumb. I cut into them over and over to make sure I had scars because whatever I was feeling I knew I couldn't forget it. For that much I'm glad I did it, because a few times Martha, or Henry, or Mary, or Jemmy-" Laurens' voice cracked and Alex thought he was crying. His eyes stung with tears of his own. "-pointed them out, and I thought, what am I going to tell them? That sometimes I feel like it doesn't matter if I stick around, that they don't need me anyway, and each of them are brilliant, strong, wonderful people and they'll grow up to do amazing things, and I love them but I don't love them enough to want to stay with them? How can I tell them that?  _My brothers and sisters_. My dad leaves them with me, and if I leave them, what,  _who_ , will they have, that wants them? That wants to stay with them?" Laurens sniffed and wiped his face. Alex closed his eyes and let the tears fall down his face.  _He_  knew what it was like to be left behind, to not be enough, and he couldn't imagine ever wanting those kids to feel the same.

"I gave them some pathetic excuse: I fell, I cut myself on the side table, and they accepted it, because to them there's not that kind of hurt. You  _get_  hurt, it's given to you, and you can't give it to yourself. Every time I see one of the scars I remember the kids and that I have to, I have to… if not for me, then for them. I can keep myself here and okay for the moment if it's for them." Laurens seemed finished with that, and he let his head fall onto Alex's shoulder, and let a long, ragged sigh go from his chest.

The night was moving and time was inexplicably passing, but the pair of them stayed still, desperately clinging to the moment, to what they had and what they didn't have, time slipping through their intertwined fingers. Alex leaned back, completely at a loss for words or even thoughts to shape into something that he could say to express how he was feeling.

"Laurens?" Alex reached out into the stretching silence, grasping for  _anything_  to say, anything at all. The silence continued with no reply. Alex knew Laurens wasn't asleep; his breathing was still fairly uneven and his head moved against Alex's shoulder.

"John?" He tried again.

"Don't. You sound like my father when you say my name like that." His voice was sharp, defensive, any vulnerability from before now gone. Still, this tone was just as unrecognizable. Alex couldn’t help but feel that Laurens was mad at him and his inability to do anything after his confession. The tightness that now stretched through the air and swelled in his lungs made it nearly impossible to speak, but Alex felt that he couldn't give up now that he'd started.

Alex pulled away from Laurens and sat up straight. The instant absence of warmth sent a shiver through him, and Laurens’ hurt expression stung, but Alex wasn't about to let him think that he could just take this all perfectly calmly and be a fully supportive, rational person, because he simply wasn't. And seeing Laurens, sweet, dear, caring, stupid Laurens hurt at his own expense and Alex's as well, made him, if at all possible, less rational than he would normally be.

"I - I can't  _believe_  you." Alex shook his head, his whole body trembling. When he stole a glance at Laurens, he was surprised to see that his face twisted with shock and confusion. Laurens started to ask Alex what he meant, which Alex usually was able to explain before anyone even tried to ask, but Alex talked over him, hushing only when he realized how loud he was being and that it might wake the kids. "You - you go about as if you're completely fine, like the world could fit in your hand, like you have not a care for anything but here and now and you just, either all of that is a lie or I'm fucking blind, deaf, and an idiot. I mean, from the moment I met you I was intimidated by you, by how easily everything went along for you, as if you were some impenetrable force of a being. But now I see that that's the farthest from the truth, that you really just dig your heels into the ground facing the forces against you and say 'no' as they continue to push you forward. You're such a stubborn asshole that you make  _me_  look submissive," despite himself, Alex laughed and rubbed his eyes, placing a hand on Laurens'.

"I thought - well, I was sort of addicted to your smile. I still am. I thought that you were always so happy and  _how could you just be so cool and okay all the time_? I should have known, really, I sort of knew. But…," Alex thought about all the letters he wrote to Laurens and never sent, all the times he wished he could do something,  _anything_. "I fantasize about ways that I can make you smile and laugh and have it be  _real_  and not just a little polite gesture," Alex confessed, laughing at himself a little, but Laurens gaze of wonderment cast away any embarrassment. "I always thought-"

Alex breath caught in his throat. He let it out, shakily, and blinked the stinging, frustrated tears out of his eyes, calming at the cool feeling of them running down his face. When he turned and put his forehead against Laurens', he met his stunned, shining, proud eyes. "You do not have an obligation to everyone to be okay all the time. Most people - in fact,  _everyone_ , has moments when they wish their life was not their life. There's a difference between taking care of people, protecting them, and not being real with the ones that you care about and that care about you. And, Laurens, I don't know many people that could meet you and not care even the  _tiniest_  bit. I mean, you're kind of a gorgeous person." Laurens blushed and looked away from Alex's stare. "And you are absolutely enough, even with your anxieties and angers and terrible, terrible stubbornness. And, just so you know, if there's anyone who can compete with your stubbornness it's me, and you're not getting rid of me, no matter how much you may want to or try."

Laurens closed his eyes and looked down which gave Alex the perfect opportunity to lightly touch his lips to his forehead.

Laurens seemed to be having trouble saying anything, or breathing in general, but eventually he tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling for a few long moments, gulped, then curled himself against Alex and laughed lightly. It was thick, with strain and tears and quiet, but it was still Laurens' laugh.

"Alex, I - sorry to dump all of this on you," he whispered against Alex's cheek.

"Don't ever apologize," he fired back before Laurens had even finished. "Not to me. Not for this. Never."

Laurens deflated against Alex, but nodded, and hesitated before getting up and walking out of the room. Alex would have asked where he was going, but he wasn't really worried and he didn't want to seem like he now had to keep tabs on Laurens twenty-four-seven.

When Laurens came back he was holding a box and said nothing as he sat next to Alex. Now Alex could see that the box was plastic, green, and probably bought from the school supplies section at Target. It made sense that when Laurens opened it, it was filled with pens and markers of every color. He skimmed around in the box until he picked a turquoise pen and uncapped it.

As if he had suddenly remembered something he had long ago forgotten, Laurens looked up at Alex with wide eyes.

"Can I?" he asked lightly, and brushed his fingers against Alex's arm.

"Oh - yes, yeah," Alex said, a little surprised, and a little confused, as Laurens held his arm with his left hand and the pen with his right. He didn't protest or move when Alex laid his head on Laurens' shoulder, and after a while the pressure of whatever Laurens had decided to draw on him with was comforting. Alex wouldn't let himself look, even at Laurens, even when he began whistling a vaguely familiar tune as he worked.

Soon he was dozing off and has to blink his eyes or focus on feeling the swirls and lines Laurens was crafting on his skin.

"Ask me something," he said to Laurens.

"Oh, okay. Tell me a story."

"That's not a question, John. Try again."

"Hey-"

"Yeah, yeah. Sorry, Laurens. Okay. Well. Once upon a time-" Laurens snorted.

"Okay, tough crowd," Alex murmured. "Well, uh, once, there was a village. It was a dirty, bustling, no-nonsense kind of village where all the people were too tired to be much of anything else."

"Are there monsters plaguing this village?" Laurens asked.

"No."

"Is there a plague plaguing this village?"

"No."

"Then-"

"Who's telling the story here, huh?"

"Sorry," Laurens snorted again, unapologetically.

"Well,  _anyway_ , in this village, there was a hardworking shoemaker, an old, grumpy fisherman, and a lazy prince who ruled over everyone."

Alex's story went on as long as Laurens was drawing. He made everything up as he went, elements strung together, one after another, like a weaving, knots and holes left behind, but he didn’t bother going back to correct them. It didn't have to be perfect, anyway. It was just keeping Alex awake. Whenever he slowed down Laurens would interject, posing a question that Alex usually brushed aside but occasionally worked into the plot. He was in the thick of the action and not anywhere near finished with the ideas spinning from his mind when Laurens threw down his marker and pronounced his drawing "Done."

Alex was hesitant to look down, and when he did he sucked in his breath sharply. The drawing and bright turquoise ink was all-encompassing, swirling and diving until Alex couldn’t see his skin anymore. The lines flew and danced and rose and fell across his arm, and he couldn't look away. Somehow Laurens had managed to work little details from Alex's ridiculous story into the designs; he could make out the fisherman's empty baskets and nets, the prince's crooked crown and crooked glasses, the crows that danced overhead, and the twisted spires of the castle. Small swashes of other colors peeked out from behind the blue like they were teasing him. There were little words here and there, on the pages of books or floating through the twinning lines like a maze. No lines were sharply cut off like the one's on Laurens' skin, and all together it looked like it was underwater, gleaming with fractured sunlight. Alex turned to face Laurens, but in the long moments Alex had spent admiring his work, it looked like the other boy had fallen asleep, his arm draped across the couch, his head resting in the crook of his elbow.

Alex leaned over, and brushed his lips against Laurens' mouth lightly. Laurens blinked slowly a few times before meeting Alex’s eyes.

Alex whispered softly to Laurens and only Laurens, "Thank you." Anything else hovering around them in the dim light, anything that would entreat on them and those precious moments, whether it was the wind or the tick of the clock, would know that none of these words were for them.

Laurens looked up at him through heavy lashes and smiled a soft, small smile, the most beautiful smile he'd ever seen from Laurens, which was saying something. Alex had become addicted to Laurens' smiles long ago. Now he knew that he had been long gone from the first.

Alex kissed Laurens' smile one last time and they settled next to each other, Alex's head resting on Laurens' shoulder. All of his thoughts and senses seemed to slow and fall away, leaving him right there with Laurens and nothing else. As they both slept and the hours passed by, they couldn't be bothered to care if it was night or day; they were exactly where they wanted to be.


	7. It's Not You, It's Me, But It's You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angelica is queen and that's about it lol.

 

 

            The next morning Laurens gave Alex a box. It was relatively small, rectangular, and wrapped in green wrapping paper that matched Laurens’ eyes.

            “Laurens,” Alex said, sensing a scheme.

            “Open it,” was all Laurens had said.

            Alex did, casting questioning glances at Laurens whenever he made a sizable tear in the paper.

            “No,” Alex said after he saw what it was.

            “It’s not even _new_ ,” Laurens protested after Alex had set the box and its contents on the floor, refusing to touch it. “Seriously, I haven’t used it in like two years. And you need one.”

            “No I don’t.”

            “Yes you do. What if you have to go in late to work?”

            “They don’t care about my hours.”

            “What if you have an emergency?”

            “If I’m bleeding out on the side of the road, someone is bound to notice, otherwise, I was probably doing something stupid anyway and I deserved to die.”  He quickly realized his mistake but decided it was too late to turn back now.

            Laurens shot him a look that was not friendly in the slightest and Alex felt his cheeks flush with shame, though he sat up straighter, trying to give Laurens a stare that would show him that he would not back down about this.

            “What if the kids need you?” Laurens asked him, softer now. “What if _I_ need you?”

            Alex couldn’t say no to that, so now he had a phone.

            Well, he had Laurens old phone that had a crack in the corner and a big dent in the case. But it was functional, after they let it sit and charge for several hours. Lafayette and Mulligan’s numbers were already in the contacts, and Laurens just updated a few things and deleted the contacts of some people that Alex didn’t know, and it was set.

            It was just that Alex had never had his own phone before.

            Laurens showed him how it worked, even had him send out a few texts to Mulligan, Lafayette, and the Schuylers to let them know that he actually had a, as Laurens put it, “common person’s ability to communicate.” He set up several group messages that were most definitely a recipe for disaster, as Peggy and Angelica had already started arguing, and Mulligan kept sending accidental one-letter/digit/punctuation texts, one right after the other until Alex’s phone felt like it was about to explode.

            Pretty soon after, Laurens showed him how to turn it on silent.

            The rest of the weekend was theirs, and though it was an amazing feat of human innovation, they were not about to waste it on Candy Crush. (Laurens also made Alex make a Facebook. Alex preferred the candy game to seeing Burr’s girlfriend’s side-boob selfies every time he opened the app.) Laurens wouldn’t accept any thanks for the gift, so Alex tried to do his best to pay him back for it. It wasn’t like he had money to buy a gift with, but kisses were free, and Laurens was happy to be on the receiving end of those.  

            That afternoon Alex took Laurens and all of the kids to the library. He got them all their own card, helped them navigate the tall shelves to find the kids’ section (taking a small detour to show them his corner and let them jump on the bean bag), and read Mary and Henry a few pictures books before letting them go to ravage the aisles upon aisles of shelves themselves. Laurens was smiling the whole time. They left with stacks of books in their arms and huge smiles, warm from being together. The rest of the day was too full of laughing children and sugary food and so, _so_ many books and pages and words and kisses that Alex couldn’t even really digest it all until it was over.

            It was a good weekend.

            It took a long while for Alex to actually leave on Sunday, and most of which was Laurens’ fault.

            “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, yeah?” Laurens asked when Alex told him that he _really_ had to go.

            “Yeah,” Alex said, but it was heavy. Because they had changed and nothing else had. Just thinking of going back made Alex feel like he had just come up for breath, and now was being sucked back under the murky water.

            “Hey,” Laurens breathed, snatching Alex’s hand. “We’re fine.”

            “Damn right,” Alex said.

            Laurens smiled at him one last time and kissed Alex’s wrist before he closed the door and Alex walked home alone.

            His room felt the same as it always had, but Alex still couldn’t help feeling like something was off.

            It took him well into Sunday night to realize that it was him that felt wrong.

* * *

 

**Sunday, 2:38 a.m. New Message from John Laurens: ** _You still up?_

            Alex woke to the buzz of his phone that he forgot to turn off, groaning and rubbing his eyes. Still, a soft smile played at his lips as he squinted at the screen.

** You:  ** _Now I am._

** John Laurens: ** _Sorry for waking you up._

** You:  ** _Don’t be sorry. What’s up?_

**John Laurens:** _We’re not telling anyone, you know, about us, right? I’m not… out. I don’t suppose you are._

            It took Alex a long time to respond. Suddenly going to school tomorrow felt daunting, heavy on his whole body. Not to mention that he was going to be astoundingly sleep deprived.

 **You:** _No, I’m not, explicitly, at least… don’t tell me you’ve been up all night worrying about this._

 **John Laurens:** _I’d probably get kicked out of my house if I told my dad._

 **You:** _wait WHAT? I didn’t realize that was the case_.

** John Laurens: ** _It’s not very good, but I didn’t want you to think it was really bad. Which it really isn’t, it’s just… yeah. I think my siblings are really too young to care or really understand, but, yeah_

** You: ** _… so what are we going to do?_

**John Laurens:** _We’re gonna be sneaky bastards. DUH. We’re not going to tell anyone, but that’s it. We don’t have to stop, we just have to… stay under the radar_.

** You:  ** _Okay, then. So that’s it?_

**John Laurens:** _Yeah, I think so. TBH, being under cover kind of turns me on._

 **You:** _Don’t tell me what turns you on when I’m trying to sleep. Have some decency, John._

 **John Laurens:** _*angry face* *laughing face* goodnight, my tired baby._

 **You:** _Goodnight *heart*_

 **John Laurens:** _That was pretty gay, even for you_

 **You:** _GO TO BED, JOHN._

 **John Laurens:** _GO BACK TO SLEEP, ALEXANDER._

* * *

 

            “This looks wrong,” Alex whined, flapping his arms to show off the loose sleeves of the suit Mulligan had put him in.

            “Oh, shush. I can do alterations like that with both eyes closed, eating a sloppy Joe, and fighting a crocodile. And I _still_ wouldn’t get a stain on it,” Mulligan grumbled, shooting a withering glance at Laurens, who’s own ensemble was already covered with crumbs from the chips he was eating. He looked up, surprised, and then gave Mulligan a wide smile with his stuffed mouth.

            Mulligan rolled his eyes and began sticking pins up and down Alex’s sleeves. Lafayette strolled over from the changing room, the only one not outfitted in a design from Mulligan’s family’s suit shop. Alex was more than a little surprised when Mulligan first mentioned it, but for all his large imposing grumbly-ness, he definitely had a graceful way with a needle and thread.

            “Hmm,” Lafayette studied Alex while snatching up a handful of chips from Laurens, who then held the bag against his chest like a precious child. “Alex looks good in blue. I like. Bravo, Master Mulligan.”

            “Ish shethend,” Laurens agreed through his mouthful, spraying crumbs everywhere.

Mulligan shot him another withering glare. “Laurens. Swallow your goddamn food or get the hell out of my shop.”

Laurens gulped exaggeratedly and smiled again at Mulligan before winking at Alex.

“Alex, stop moving unless you want me to stab you, and I will blame and charge you for bleeding on my merchandise.”

“Yes, sir,” Alex would have saluted, but that would have meant initiating movement. He told himself that the intention is what counted.

            “Hey, where’s your get-up?” Laurens raised his eyebrows at Lafayette, gesturing to his casual clothes with a chip.

            Lafayette strolled through the store, glancing through racks and holding garments up to himself and then posing in the mirror. “Ah, but it is a surprise,” Laf winked exaggeratedly at Mulligan, and Alex could have sworn he blushed.

            “Aw, c’mooon,” Laurens whined, falling back on the crumb covered love seat. “You know how impatient I am.”

            “Hell yeah, we do,” the three said in unison.

            “You will just have to wait until the eve of the ball to see me in my fabulous gown,” Lafayette teased, darting behind the racks.

            “Wait,” Laurens, turned, trying to adjust himself so he was speaking in Lafayette’s direction. “You’re not actually wearing a _gown_ , right? Because if you show up in a ball gown and we’re in these lousy-“

            “Watch your mouth you insufferable brat.”

            “Drab-“

            “Ehhrrm-“

            “Uh-“

            “Mmmm-“

            “Old-timey-“

            “Who you callin’-“

            “ _Unyouthful-“_

“Is that even a word?” Alex asked, mostly too himself.

            “Son,” Mulligan whispered threateningly, “My craft does not appreciate this kind of talk in this holy-“

            “I hope there are no holes,” Alex mumbled.

            “Establishment, and neither do-“

            “UNBEDAZZLED.”

            “…hmph.”

            “…I’m still not sure that a word…”

            “-unbedazzled ensembles, I mean, we’d look like idiots!”

            Alex nodded, then remember the thing with not moving, but he didn’t think Mulligan noticed. “Agree. Oh ever so talented tailor Hercules? I’d like a crimson ball gown by day’s end, lace on the sleeves, ornate corset, the works.”

            “One for me as well,” Laurens chimed in. “Make it a rich shade of lilac with my family crest over my left bosom.”

            “You have a bosom?” Alex asked.

            “Everyone has a bosom.”

            “I… I don’t think so.”

            Laurens rolled his eyes and sighed. “Look, I’m not going to go over anatomy with you right now,” Laurens paused and glared at him when Alex gave him a look that said _so we can go over anatomy later?_ “Besides, you’re the one who specified the corset. Corsets are old-timey-“

            “ _Hhmmm.”_

            “ _Antiquated_ bosom holders that are no longer a necessity or a benefit in these modern times.” Laurens looked at Alex pointedly. “But they sure as hell make your bosom look damn fine.”

            He thought for a moment. “Laurens, will you do me the honor of helping me secure my bosom by lacing the strings of my corset?”

            “Tis my honor and my duty, Sir Alexander, so long as you will tire yourself in doing mine.”

            “Ooo, Sir Alexander, I like that. That’s how I’ll be addressed from now on. I shall be a king among men, a bringer of change, and one day all the children in my loyal land will praise my name, the mighty Sir Alexander.”

            Laurens laughed until he fell off the couch.

            Next to Alex’s ear, Mulligan mumbled something that sounded astoundingly like “kinky bastards”.

* * *

 

            The Legacy Pages was entirely deserted save Angelica in her usual spot, typing away like there would be no tomorrow, her lips moving slightly to the words that she watched appear on the screen, her sight never wavering.

            “Hey, Angelica?”

            “Hi Alexander. What do you want?” she snapped tiredly, not turning to look at him. Her typing never slowed.

            “Uh, why are you here at eight o’clock on Friday when everyone else is gone?”

            “Why are _you_ here at eight o’clock on Friday when everyone else is gone save for your mentor, role model, and without a doubt number-one ranked most attractive person in the city, Angelica Schuyler?”

            The click-clack of the keys was the only sound in the room.

            “Honestly, Alex, if you want the title of the most over-worked person in the Tri-State area, you’re going to have to work a little harder at it.”

            Alex sighed heavily, then tossed his bag to the floor and fell into the swivel chair next to Angelica.

            “Tired?” she asked softly.

            Alex responded with an obnoxious series of moans that only elicited a condescending snort from Angelica. “That kind of day, huh?”

            “No, actually,” Alex said, resting his chin in his hands, elbows propped against the desk. “It was a pretty good day.”

            That finally caught Angelica’s attention.

            “If you had such a good day, what was that ungodly noise?”

            Alex pondered that for a moment. “I don’t know. Don’t you just want to make ridiculous, loud, disgustingly horrific noises for absolutely no reason every once and awhile?”

            “No. Never.”

            “Hm. Just me, then.”

            Angelica cocked her chin. “Still,” she fixed her stare back on the screen, her fingers dancing expertly across the keyboard. “Something has been up with you these days.”

            “What? What do you mean by that?”

            Angelica paused, leaving her hands to hover before she rubbed them across her face and sighed. “I don’t know. You just seem… lighter. Actually, no, that’s the wrong way to put it. Not lighter, but less tangled. Less frazzled. You’re acting a little more like your shoes fit on your feet, you know?”

            “Not exactly, but we can pretend that I do.”

            She rolled her eyes and shook her head, smiling softly. Alex finally noticed that the lights were off, the glow from Angelica’s desktop lighting up her face, the dregs of daylight slipping away through the window shades.

            “Well, you seem different. I’m just waiting for you to tell me why.”

            Alex blanched. “Why? Why would there be a why?”

            “Because when you answer with a stupid answer like that there’s almost always a why.”

            “I see your point and I think it’s stupid.”

            “Spoken like a true wordsmith.”

            Alex sighed a laugh and sunk back into his chair. “I can’t say you’ve been acting entirely normal, either.”

            “My normal is decidedly unnormal.”

            “…is that a word?”

            “The English language is subjected to enormous amounts of change over time due to adaptations in modern innovations as well as developing societies and the different cultures that mingle in these societies and change the nuances of more than just one language, and even if it’s not a word now trust me when I say that I could very easily make it one, also, it has a prefix, so does it really matter?”

            “… Huh. I guess not.”

            Alex spun in his chair so that his arms were resting across the back and his knees were bent in the seat, turning to face Angelica. “Still, if there’s something that you need to get off your chest…”

            Angelica looked at him carefully. Sighed. Clicked off her computer. “I guess. But this is not a discussion to have over an empty stomach.” She only could reach for her phone before the little bell that cued the door opening chimed.

            “What up?” Jefferson announced himself, hauling in a takeout bag and flicking on the lights.

            Shielding himself from the brightness, Alex whispered breathlessly, “Speak of the devil.” Angelica, on the other hand, grasped her heart and looked at Jefferson with wide eyes.

            Alex stood and took the bag from Jefferson, meeting his tired features with a smile. “Just the man we were hoping to see.”

* * *

 

            “How did you even know we’d be here?” Angelica questioned through a huge bite of a croissant. They’d formed a triangle on the floor, the food in the middle, not dissimilar to a demon summoning. Alex knew that if that was the actual case, Angelica would be sacrificing both him and Jefferson before the food.

            Jefferson leaned back casually, his eyes drooping from exhaustion, even his hair fell flat compared to its usual level of poof. “I just looked at your location on Google+. I’m not a stalker.” Jefferson pshawed and reached for another roll.

            Angelica’s eyebrows shot up and she scrambled for her phone, no doubt clearing out any association with Google.

            “Is it really so terrible of me to want to spend time with you guys? I even brought food!”

            Neither Alex nor Angelica replied.

            “I mean, y’all are my only friends.”

            There was a moment before Angelica’s and Alex’s eyes met that was quiet, and then they did, and then their uncontrolled laughter rippled through their bodies until they were rolling around on the floor, leaving Jefferson with his indignant pout.

            “I’m going to pretend that you’re not laughing at me and that you genuinely care about my life and my problems and concerns.”

            Alex felt tears in his eyes and found himself unable to sit up or glance at Angelica without bursting into a new fit of seizure-level laughing.

            After minutes of this, Jefferson shouted, “WOULD YOU ASSHOLES SHUT UP?!”

            They did, though they had to sniffle down a few giggles.

            Jefferson was looking down at his shoes that were stretched out in front of him. “I got fired.”

            “WHAT?!” Angelica shrieked, looking at the scraps of the food as if it were the mangled corpses of her murdered family.

            “Once again, I’m going to pretend that you actually care about me right now. Yeah, they just kind of told me. No reason. Just turn in your hat and go.”

            His voice shook so much that Alex thought he might be crying. Alex wasn’t sure he could handle seeing Thomas Jefferson reduced to tears over the Last Supper from his employer, probably the last one that would come to the Legacy Pages. He scooted over and patted Jefferson’s back, dragging up words of encouragement from the weary recesses of his brain.

            “Hey, it’s not like you won’t get another job. Didn’t you say you used to work at another newspaper? Hell, maybe you’ll start working here,” Alex did his best to ignore Angelica’s sharp intake of breath that most definitely meant “over my dead body”. “C’mon. It’s not like you had your life set to be a food delivery guy forever. You have goals, right? Dreams? Hopes, desires?”

            “Shut up right now,” Jefferson croaked.

            “Okie dokie,” Alex pulled his hand away and scooted back to his spot on the floor.

            “It’s not like I really cared about getting fired. It’s just that, I guess, everyone liked me when I brought them food. And now, what do I got going for me?”

            “Definitely not your personality,” Angelica murmured.

            Alex shot her a look that could rival one of her most deadly ones. _We have to be supportive here,_ he tried to tell her through his facial expressions.

            _No food, no fucks,_ she seemed to answer.

            “Hey, don’t listen to her, she’s a bit cranky-“

            “GEE I WONDER WHY.”

            “I was wondering quite the same thing. Anyway, that’s not true, I mean, you’ve got… uh… great hair?” Alex attempted. He could hear Angelica trying to repress her snickers.

            Jefferson ran his hands through his hair, poofing it up again like the whole curly mass of it had just inhaled. “Really? Well, thanks. See, you guys really are my friends. You’re always there for me.” He leaned over and pulled them both into a hug that Alex returned awkwardly and Angelica not at all.

            When he finally disentangled them, he was now looking as smug as he usually did but still tired. Not like Alex could blame him. As far as species went, he was more “tired” than “human”.

            “So,” Jefferson drawled. “What’s going on with you, Miss Schuyler?”

            “What are you talking about, Thomas?”

            “Well, you seem positively cranky, as Alexander mentioned previously, and you seem to be completely resisting my hunky charms. What gives?”

            Angelica laughed heavily, as if it were forced, unwilling. “Well, whatever charms you do have, they sure as hell aren’t hunky. And _nothing. Is going. On._ Seriously, what’s with you guys being all concerned all of a sudden? I’m perfectly capable of handling things myself, thank you very much.” She crossed her arms and stared daggers at both of them.

            Alex and Jefferson looked at each other.

            “What?!” Angelica screeched. “I’m fine! Can’t you guys just leave it alone?”

            Alex sighed and rubbed his eyes. “If that’s what you want. But somethings up. And we both know it.”

            “Uh huh,” Jefferson chimed in. “You got some hit men if you need us to murder someone. But we can’t do nothing until you tell us what’s going on.”

            Angelica burst into convulsive laughter, bewildering both of the guys, Jefferson considerably more than Alex.

            She sat up, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry, I just, I was imagining you guys as a hit crew.” She cackled once more, then sighed. “I don’t know. You guys probably won’t care, and it’s not a big deal anyway.”

            “Of _course_ it’s a big deal,” Jefferson explained. Alex was a tad bit frightening of his intensity, but he decided it would be tolerable until Jefferson started throwing things. “We _care_ about you. If somethings troubling you, it’s our problem too.”

            Alex turned to Angelica dumbly. “What he said.”

            “You shouldn’t have to go through anything alone, Angelica.”

            Her eyes flitted between the two of them. “Alright. I just don’t really know how to explain it.” She sighed and sat in silence for a moment. “It’s John.”

            “John?!” Jefferson gasped. “What did he do to you?!”

            “Whoa, whoa,” Angelica held her hands out like she was calming a bucking racehorse. “He didn’t do anything to me, okay?” She sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Look, this was a bad idea-“

            “NO!” Alex and Jefferson shouted at once.

            “I – we,” Alex corrected, “mean, that you can tell us. We’re cool, we’re listening.”

            Jefferson bopped his head, curls flying and bouncing every which way. “We’re here for you.”

            She looked between the two of them. “I guess, I don’t know. I’m probably imagining things.”

            “Baby,” Jefferson said, leaning forward. “If you’re seeing a problem, there’s a problem.”

            “Well, I wouldn’t say it’s a _problem._ Just, I don’t really… like him anymore.”

            They were all quiet.

            “I don’t suppose this is a, no, you _like-like_ him situation,” Alex pondered.

            “I just,” Angelica pursed her lips and glanced around the room. “I don’t like what he does. Who he _is._ ”

            “Dump his sorry ass,” Jefferson stated, as if it were the most obvious thing, like there was a clock on the wall. “You deserve to be happy. Don’t waste your time on him if he ain’t going to be your bae.”

            Alex and Angelica looked at each other, not sure which one of them was more shocked. A missed opportunity of hitting on Angelica from Jefferson? It was unheard of.

            Angelica faced Jefferson, who was assessing his nails. “But I don’t want it to turn into a “it’s not you, it’s me” kind of thing.”

            “Don’t turn it into one because that’s obviously not what it is,” Jefferson replied. “It’s cuz he’s being an ass, right? So it’s totally _him._ Just do it, girl. Not like you can’t find another guy.” With that, Jefferson scooped up the trash, stuffed it in the can with the rest of the garbage, and opened the door. “And when you need a shoulder to cry on because you realize that despite his less appealing qualities you _really did love him_ and you and him are over forever because of your mistakes, I’ll be waiting for your call.” Jefferson left them with nothing but a wink and stunned expressions.

            Angelica blew her hair out of her face. “I should have expected that.”

            “He’s not wrong, you know,” Alex tilted his chin at her, raising his eyebrows. “What are you going to do?”

            “Heck if I know.” She unfolded herself from the floor, brushing off the crumbs and smoothing out her clothes. Alex only noticed then, but she looked nearly as exhausted as Jefferson. She braced her arms against the desk and took a deep breath.

            “C’mon,” Alex made a motion for her to follow him. “Let’s go home.”

            Angelica looked at him, shrugged, and nodded, before she gathered her things and locked Legacy up for the night.

            “He _really_ is right, ‘gelica,” Alex said to her again as they made their way to the bus stop, the ends of her scarf hitting him in the face with all the wind. He spoke through the stringy tassels that were stuck in his mouth.

            “And you are definitely hiding something from me, Alexander. And I’ll find out what sooner or later,” she grinned smugly, any trace of tiredness or anxiety that he had seen before had vanished.

            Alex sighed. “Is John coming to the thing tomorrow?”

            Angelica nodded. “I just hope he doesn’t make an ass of himself.”

            Alex laughed. “With that many people that we know there, no doubt _someone_ will make an ass of themselves.”

            It was Angelica’s turn to laugh, and their warm banter added an extra layer to his thin coat, like a blanket freshly out of the dryer. The two of them were laughing and giggling and snorting the whole bus ride, free of their anxieties and secrets as long as they were together.

 


	8. It Ain't No Party Like A Schuyler Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a party and everyone dies (lol not really but maybe a little)

 

Alex wasn’t sure what time he was supposed to get ready on Saturday. Mulligan wasn’t picking him up at Laurens’ place until seven thirty, and the Schuylers’ party didn’t start until eight, so he had lots of time. It wasn’t like he needed to do his hair or makeup or anything, nothing like the chaos going on at the Schuylers’ place, as Angelica had already sent him twenty-five texts complaining about it by the time he woke up at twelve thirty. He literally had to put on his suit and walk to Laurens’ place. Or walk to Laurens’ place and _then_ put on his suit, so he didn’t waste the entire day just sitting around wondering when he should get ready. He liked that idea. He walked to Laurens’ place.

            It was the first time Laurens didn’t answer the door for him. Alex knew that there was a housekeeper/nanny that came around on the weekdays or whenever to clean and stuff, but he’d never actually met her. She was a short woman with a thin crop of blonde hair clipped on the top of her head. She couldn’t have been much past forty, but the lines around her mouth were as deep as an old maid’s. She opened the door with a grumpy look, deep pout, and eyebrows like window shades over her eyes. After she looked at him for a moment she tilted her head.

            “Are you Alex?”

            “Um, yeah.”

            She nodded, her features relaxing, as she opened the door wide to let him in. “John is upstairs.”

            “Thank you,” Alex said politely, to which he was almost answered with a smile. She flew off to another room before Alex could see if she really was smiling.

            Laurens’ door was open, but Alex knocked anyway.

            “Uh, why does your housekeeper know who I am by sight without having met me before?”

Laurens looked up from his phone and nodded off his headphones. “Alex!” he jumped off his bed and came to greet Alex at the door. He stopped short of touching him, just stared him down and said “She knows _everything_ ,” in a deadpan before his face broke into a smile. “What are you doing here so early? Not that I’m _complaining_ …”

Alex laughed and slung his dress bag with his suit onto the floor. “I was bored.”

“Wow, glad to know I’m so important to you.”

“You are! You’re my cure for boredom! We could market you and make millions!”

“Oh, so you want to sell me now? Let me be everyone else’s cure? Well, that won’t do, because the only person I’ll tolerate crashing my house at one on a Saturday for the cause of boredom is you.” Laurens slung his arms around Alex’s waist and was about to pull him in for a kiss when a little voice from the doorway chirped in.

            “Alex! Look at my fishy!” Henry called, proudly holding up a plush Nemo and waving it in the air.

            Laurens jumped away from Alex, staring at his brother, mortified.

            Alex only laughed. “Nice fish, Henry.”

            Henry smiled proudly and ran back to his room, giggling manically.

            “Maybe closing the door would be a good idea?” Alex suggested.

Laurens slapped his hand over his heart and fell back on his bed. “Oh my god, oh god, oh god…” Laurens mumbled.

Alex sighed and closed the door, then fell next to Laurens and pecked him on the nose. “You’re an idiot, which I think says more about me than you.”

* * *

 

Apparently seven o’clock was the proper time to get ready for the Schuylers’ party.

Beforehand, Laurens had sneakily ordered a pizza behind the housekeeper’s back, having the delivery girl come to the back door and having the kids act as a distraction.

“Trust me,” he had said as they were tip-toeing up the stairs, “Ms. Prichard may be a godly cook, but she practically shoves it down your throat and I usually cannot move after a meal with her. I don’t eat when she’s here unless I haven’t eaten anything else all day. I think she thinks I’m anorexic.”

Alex couldn’t help but snort at that. He’d seen John put away more than his fair share of pizza, hot wings, an entire party size bag of chips, whatever in front of him that was edible. “Why are the kids eating down there, then?”

“They’re aliens with special digestive systems, I don’t know. But we have to eat this ASAP because they will come looking for what’s left.”

“You do this often?”

“That girl doesn’t even have to tell me what I owe anymore. She gets a fifty-percent tip, too, because I don’t like making change.”

“Oh god, remind me to never send you grocery shopping. You’ll end up taking those ten for one deals way too seriously.”

After the night before, Alex felt that he’d been treated to far too many take-out-on-the-floor meals, but Laurens insisted that they build a fort around them for the sake of hiding from the children, so at least the setting was somewhat different.

Once Laurens heard a rustle outside, he made sweeping motions for Alex to be quiet and he completely froze until he believed that the threat had been averted.

“We know what you have,” a gruff girl’s voice said from behind the tent. Laurens’ surprise shriek was muffled by pizza, and the blanket draped over them was thrown back to reveal them to a small mob of tiny children. They laughed and shrieked as they trampled the boys in pursuit of the half-filled pizza box that Laurens had stashed under his bed, and ran off to their rooms with their treasure.

Laurens looked at Alex sadly. “That also happens rather often.” He sighed and glanced at his phone. “Well, I guess we’d better get ready. Laf and Herc should be here at seven-thirty.”

“Have you ruined your suit yet?” Alex teased as Laurens stood and went to his closet.

“As a matter of fact I have not, and I’d just like to thank you for your confidence in my neatness and,” Laurens flicked through all the clothes hanging up in his closet. “Shit. Where did I put it?”

Alex snickered at Laurens and went across the hall to change.

Alex couldn’t help but admire the quality of the suit Mulligan had given to him (he’d made Alex, Laurens, and Lafayette promise not to tell his father that he’d fitted them for free, which they all guaranteed that their lips were sealed). It was easily the nicest thing he’d ever owned, and had trouble fathoming that some people wore things like this every day, that this was casual in some circles. Slipping on the jacket, Alex thought he could get used to something like that.

When he went back into Laurens’ room, Laurens was struggling to secure his bow-tie around his collar.

Laurens’ looked up at Alex and tossed the tie to the side. “Bow-ties; who need ‘em, anyway?”

They looked each other up and down. “Damn,” they concluded in unison.

Lauren’s suit was entirely black, with skinny ribbons of red along the sleeve cuffs and collar. Alex had never seen Laurens in anything other than his school uniform or a spectacular selection of hoodies. _Damn_ indeed.

Their admiration was interrupted by both of their phones going off. Laurens already started reading it out loud before Alex could even turn on his phone. “’From Hercules The Mighty: Laf had hair crisis, will be late.’ Well, then.”

Alex shook his head. “We really should have expected that.”

“Damn it!” Laurens shouted. “Now we have to wait even _longer_ to see Laf’s spectacular ball gown. _The suspense is killing me._ ” He fell back on his bed dramatically and Alex laughed.

“You do have a very limited tolerance for suspense.”

“Indeed. _Never_ watch crime shows or horror movies with me.”

Alex smiled and dropped down next to Laurens on the bed. “You look really hot in that suit.”

Laurens looked dazed for a second before he leaned back to assess Alex, then nodded and decided, “Eh, you look okay. I can’t really say I find you appealing.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. I don’t really have a thing for short, loud-mouth types.”

“That’s not what you said last night.” Alex grinned jokingly.

Laurens looked at him for a moment then shoved him lightly. “You ass.”

“Really, though,” Alex mumbled. “You’re a very beautiful person.”

Laurens scoffed, though he seemed a bit out of breath. “My other suitors all say I’m gorgeous.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ll fight them,” Alex went for a kiss, but Laurens pulled back at the last second and pecked Alex on the tip of his nose.

“You tease,” Alex complained.

“That’s not what you said last night,” Laurens waggled his eyebrows, then cut Alex off with a deep kiss before he could respond.

After turning Alex whole body to jelly, Laurens pulled away and smiled sweetly, no longer joking. “You make my life a whole lot better. Thanks for that.”

“Don’t thank me for anything. I don’t need any sort of gratitude for loving you,” Alex murmured.

Laurens eyes were wide. “Uh, Alex? Did you just say what I think you’ve said?”

Alex felt his face burn, hoping he hadn’t scared Laurens. His stomach twisted and he stuttered when he went to talk. “Yeah, I did. Is there something wrong with that? I’m sorry-“

“No, no, no,” Laurens cut him off immediately, shaking his head so that his curls flew out everywhere. “It’s just that we’ve only been… _together_ for like a week.”

“And I’ve known you for several months, so your point is?”

Laurens looked surprised, and a bit confused, and Alex hoped that he wasn’t being pushy. “I just, I didn’t know, I guess… I don’t know.” Laurens pulled his arms out from Alex loose embrace and covered his face with his hands. They were covered with swirls and dots and clouds of all colors.

“Hey,” Alex spoke close to Laurens’ face, “I don’t need to date you to love you. You’re obviously not dating your siblings, and you still love them.”

Laurens laughed which melted Alex to the core. “And I love them because they make you happy.”

Laurens sighed and touched his forehead to Alex’s. “I know all that. I think I do, anyway. I’m just… a little scared.” Laurens shied away, ashamed, and Alex was quick to pull him back against him. “I’ve just never really done this before, at least not when I cared enough to get it right. Or with a guy. Damn, I sound pathetic.”

Alex laughed. “No, you don’t. And I guess I’m a little scared too. Scared it will all fall apart against our best intentions and we’ll be left worse off than before. Because I don’t think I’ve felt this way before either and the first time I sort of realized what was happening I had no idea what to do. You also gave me writer’s block the first time I met you, which scared me more than you should ever know and I probably won’t ever tell you. But if we’re scared, that will only make those fears closer to reality, trust me, I know. And as fucking cheesy as this sounds, I trust you with my heart. So yeah, I love you. In all the ways that matter.”

Alex wasn’t sure which one of them was more out of breath. The words spilled out of Alex until the only place to look in the numb silence was Laurens’ big, bright eyes.

“Well, then,” Laurens’ breathed.

“But if you don’t want me to say it, that’s totally fine, I understand-“

“No!” Laurens shouted suddenly. “I mean, no, you don’t have to stop. I guess I’m just a bit scared of going too fast. Because, like you said, if this is right, I don’t want to get it wrong.”

Alex smiled, his nose brushing Laurens’. “Fine by me. You know you can tell me if I’m crossing too many lines.”

“Yeah, I know. Just fucking kiss me already.”

Alex obliged.

* * *

 

It was well after eight when Mulligan and Lafayette finally showed up, honking the car horn so loud that a few of Laurens’ neighbors shouted at them as they made their way down the street.

Lafayette had a blanket wrapped around him, which Laurens whined about for a good two minutes before finding a new source of complaints.

“How come _I_ never get to drive? I have a license. I can drive. We’d be on time if _I_ was the driver for once.” Laurens harrumphed and crossed his arms, scowling at the back of Mulligan’s headrest. Alex had to resist leaning over to tell him that he looked cute when he was grumpy.

Mulligan snorted. “You never get to drive because your car is a piece of shit.”

Laurens gasped so loudly all three of them jumped in their seats. “Beatrice is _not_ a piece of shit. She is beautiful in her own way. You heathens may not be able to appreciate her automobile virtues, but I can, and I guess that will have to be enough.”

The silence in the car was deafening. Alex broke it before he could start laughing. “You named your car _Beatrice_?”

Laurens looked at him, horrified, until his jaw clamped and he turned his face away coldly. “Don’t judge me.”

“Besides,” Lafayette chimed in, still fussing with his pony-tailed hair. “We all know that you failed your driver’s test three times. We’d have died by now if you drove us on a regular basis. Maybe we can compromise and Alex could drive.”

Alex was the first to reply to that suggestion, with nothing other than a thunderous laugh. “You’d have more luck with Laurens. I don’t even know how to drive.” Alex didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed before the car erupted in outrage. He was pretty sure Mulligan smacked him on the head without looking at him and Lafayette shot a hairband at him, but he couldn’t be certain.

“You’re seventeen and you don’t know how to drive? That’s it. You, me, Beatrice, several hours of home-schooled driver’s ed. You don’t have the option of saying no,” Laurens declared.

Alex groaned. “Alone with you in a car for several hours? Sounds like my worst nightmare,” he winked at Laurens who gave him an _oh really you’re going to be like that_ look.

Lafayette sighed deeply. “I broke up with my first boyfriend after we were in a car alone for several hours. Worst several hours of my life. After he suggested that we listen to One Direction’s Take Me Home album instead of NSYNC. I almost threw myself out of the window.” He shook his head, wrapping the blanket tightly around him.

Alex and Laurens looked at each other.

“I didn’t know you had an ex,” Laurens said.

“Ex- _es._ Oh, dear, sweet, innocent Laurens, I am what you lonely people call a _heartbreaker._ ”

Before they could question Lafayette anymore, they pulled into the Schuyler’s driveway. The driveway could probably fit another house, and the mansion was as big as a castle. Alex was always a little awed whenever he came up to it.

“Here, finally,” Mulligan grumbled, and slide out of his seat. Alex and Laurens could do nothing but follow, then crowd around Lafayette’s door when he didn’t get out.

“C’mon!” Laurens howled. “You gotta get out sometime.”

“I know, I know,” Lafayette said from the rolled down window. “Just let me prepare myself.” They waited, shivering from the cool night air. Alex was a little surprised that it hadn’t started snowing yet, even though it was only the first week of December.

Lafayette burst from the vehicle in an outrageously flawless manner, and then proceeded to blind them with the seemingly endless amount of gold sequins that decorated his suit. Mulligan nodded and looked proud, his arms crossed and a smug grin across his face.

“Ow,” Laurens howled, laughing and clapping Lafayette on the back. “Hearts will be broken to _night_.”

They walked in their tight pack up the pavement to the classily lit mansion. Mulligan had already handed his keys over to the valet.

            “I appreciate your enthusiasm, _mon ami_ , but I need nothing to charm all the helpless people, looking for love. The suit is for my own enjoyment,” Lafayette practically strut to the door.

            “What he’s saying is he’s a man whore,” Mulligan clarified.

            Lafayette mock-gasped. “You offend me!” He hit Mulligan’s arm, which only made the larger man roll his eyes. Lafayette then turned to Alex and Laurens who were trailing them. “He is right, you know.”

            Alex laughed and watched as Lafayette danced through the entryway.

            Laurens leaned against Alex and whispered, “So, do you know what this party is actually for?”

            “Absolutely no idea.”

            “Wonderful.”

            They lost Lafayette in the crowd pretty quickly (although there was no doubt that it would be easy to find him if they tried) and Mulligan quickly found one of his tailor friends and went to talk with them.

            That left Laurens and Alex.

            “Well, I guess-“ Laurens started, then caught sight of the huge table of food near the patio doors in the back of the large entertainment room. He gasped loudly, and several people turned to look at them. “Oh my god, food,” and Laurens was gone as well. Alex went to follow, but caught his arm and spun around to see Eliza, smiling brightly.

            “Hey, you!” she hugged him tightly, which surprised him a little, but he hugged her back all the same. “You made it!”

            Alex snorted. “Finally. Laf had us delayed.”

            Eliza laughed. “Yeah, I saw him run that way. Couldn’t really miss him, if you know what I mean?”

            “Oh, I do. Definitely.”

            She laughed again and smiled, taking his arm with hers. “Let’s find somewhere to sit and talk, shall we?”

            “Lead the way.”

* * *

 

            Eliza poured him a glass of champagne, which surprised him, since out of everyone he knew at the party he hadn’t expected Eliza to be the first one to whip out the alcohol. He took it, still, and watched Eliza down half her glass in one gulp. Despite himself, he laughed.

            “That bad? It hasn’t even been more than an hour.”

            “Ugh, you haven’t been here all day. The first couple showed up at two and claimed they misread the invitation, and have been getting drunk in the dining hall all afternoon.” She took another swig, shaking her head. “They ate like ten cookies, my _special_ cookies. Ugh. I swear I wanted to throw my curling iron at their faces. Still, it’s not as bad as Thanksgiving. It’s a shame you couldn’t have made it even just to see the amazing shitstorm of an event that it was. My dad started acting out scenes from his favorite civil war movies. There’s still a sword stuck in the bear head in the dining hall.”

            Alex felt bad about having fibbed to get out of the last time Eliza had invited him over, but he’d rather that then telling Eliza that he’d ditched her for Laurens.

            “Yeah, I wish I could have been there, spared you of some of your misery, but the fam just wouldn’t let me go.”

            Eliza giggled, then clasped her hand over his wrist. “I wouldn’t let you go, either! You’re one of a kind, Alexander Hamilton,” she smiled at him, leaving him utterly dazzled. Her dark hair was pulled back in a bun secured with pearl clips and her diamond earrings sparkled, but not nearly as much as her eyes. For a moment Alex thought she might kiss him, and then he thought he might kiss _her_ , and then he snapped out of it.

            “Uh, by the way, what is this party even for? The invitation didn’t specify.” He asked, pulling himself out of Eliza’s hold, but she didn’t seem to care. Her hands were already dancing around in exasperation, nearly splashing champagne everywhere.

            “Oh my god, it’s sort of embarrassing.” She paused and sighed before continuing. “It’s to celebrate my dad’s favorite racing horse, Lucifer. We told him not to advertise that because we’d sound like Satanists. He made it sort of obvious, though, with the two-ton ice horse sculpture with ‘Lucifer the Great’ carved in the base.” She pointed over to said sculpture, which Alex was surprised to have just noticed then.

            Alex snorted, and Eliza soon joined in, giggling in his ear. “I know, right? But at least we found a good excuse to have all you guys over. Speaking of which, we should probably join them, right?”

            “Yeah, that’d be a good idea.”

            Eliza stood, uncurling herself from their little corner by the fireplace, looking over the crowd. “Ah, they’re over there by my cookies. C’mon!” She took his hand in hers and dragged him through the crowd, yanking his arm. _Drunk Eliza is very energetic, flirty, and develops Hulk-like strength after a single glass of champagne,_ Alex noted to himself, pretty sure it would be something valuable to remember for after tonight.

            She led him right to Laurens, which was good, because Alex was starting to feel bad for abandoning him so quickly. He seemed to have been talking with Angelica and the tall guy next to her. Turning to find Alex, he scrunched his eyebrows in a questioning slant and quickly went to his side.

            “Hey, where’ve you been?” Laurens asked. Alex tried to not look guilty.

            He shook his head in the worldly acknowledged _whatever, not a big deal_ motion. “Eliza tried to get me drunk,” Alex interrupted Laurens’ bewilderment and the slight anger that he saw color his cheeks and parted lips before he could say anything else. “Don’t worry, my pants were on the entire time.”

            Laurens gave him a skeptical look but nodded and turned back to the others. Eliza pounced on both of them, appearing from thin air with a tray of cookies.

            “These are my _magic_ cookies. Try one,” she smiled knowingly and watched each of them take one.

            “I’m pretty sure she puts drugs in them!” Angelica whisper shouted from across the table, causing several of their posh guests to give her horrified stares. The tall guy next to her leaned down and whispered something in her ear, which made her cross her arms and look sullenly away from all of them, out the window. Alex didn’t know what that was about, and wasn’t sure he wanted to get involved.

            Alex took one bite of the cookie and immediately understood why everyone called them magic. “Holy shit,” he and Laurens said in unison. Laurens stuffed half in his mouth before taking Eliza by the shoulders.

            “Eliza,” he said, then paused while he swallowed. “I would marry you right now if I could promise you that I wouldn’t leave you for these cookies, but I can’t promise that, so you can be the maid of honor.”

            Eliza still held out the tray, and Laurens took a whole stack while she laughed, beaming. “I don’t know if I should be complemented or insulted. At least my cookies will feel your love.”

            Laurens nodded enthusiastically. “And I feel the love of your cookies,” he assured her through a stuffed mouth.

            “Well, as long as you’re happy, I’m sure my broken heart can go on.”

            He patted her shoulder before racing over to Lafayette and Mulligan to alert them to the baking masterpiece that waited.

            Eliza leaned in close to Alex, whispering clandestinely. “Sometimes I make them with extra-strong coffee for Angelica when she needs to work and doesn’t want to have to get up to pee from drinking all the coffee.” Alex could relate to that struggle. “I don’t suppose she’s ever shared them with you?”

            Alex laughed loudly. “Angelica? Sharing food? Haha, haha, ha.”

            “Oh, I see you were already talking about me,” Angelica chirped teasingly over his shoulder and he jumped. He turned and hugged her. “Hi, Alex.” Her dress was purple, shiny, and tight, and she could not have looked more uncomfortable. Deep bags hung under her eyes, and she seemed slouched over, as if standing straight took too much effort. She twitched when the tall guy that had been following her cleared his throat. Quickly, she reassembled her smile and stepped back to stand next to him.

            “Alex, this is my boyfriend, John Church.”

            John Church reached out to Alex for a handshake. “How do you do?” he asked politely, smoothing out his suit as he did so. Alex almost laughed at the question. He only ever heard southern belles in old westerns say that. He was half tempted to reply with “I do, I do bite my thumb, sir.” Sadly, Shakespeare was rarely appropriate outside of literature friendly settings.

            “Great, thanks. Nice to meet you. I’m Angelica’s coworker, Alexander Hamilton.”

            “Oh, I know,” John said, and Alex noticed that Angelica looked like she was going to be sick. John took a step closer to Alex, pulling his hand out of Alex’s. “And I know how close “coworkers” get, alright?”

            “Wait, what-“

            “John,” Angelica protested, grabbing his arm.

            Alex put his hands out in front of him in a surrender. “Whoa, I don’t know what you _think_ is going on between me and Angelica, but I can assure you most certainly that _nothing_ is going on.”

            John’s former friendly expression was cold and twisted in a snarl. “What, you actually think I’d let my girlfriend leave me for the likes of you? You must be out of your goddamn mind-“

            “John, let’s go,” Angelica said, pulling him away. She shot Alex an apologetic glance, then looked at John with something that Alex had never seen Angelica Schuyler wear on her face before.

            Helplessness.

            “Hey, ‘gelica, wait a second,” he tried to follow after them, but they were already gone. Alex stood alone, stunned, and looked around him. Laurens was with his cookies, leaning up against the wall to the left of the arching doorway that Angelica had just dragged John through. He was talking with a short girl, and it took Alex several moments to realize that it was Peggy, the youngest Schuyler sister.

            He strolled over, trying to sort through that previous incident in his head while he put on a friendly smile and ruffled Peggy’s hair. It was a bowl cut, but with her curly hair, it just sort of created a large poof around her head. Every kid had to go through at least one bad haircut, he thought. It was practically a universal requirement.

            “Hey, Peggers. Is mean old Laurens here corrupting your young mind?”

            She slapped his hand away and replied with a pout. “Yes. He’s convincing me to become a Communist and overthrow the government with my dazzling girlish charms.”

            Laurens shrugged as if he had no idea what she could be talking about, though he was grinning ear to ear.

            “Rough night?” Alex asked, settling himself between Laurens and Peggy, snatching a cookie from an unsuspecting Laurens while he was at it.

            Peggy groaned. “Like you wouldn’t believe. Eliza is on her third glass of champagne, Angelica and John have been fighting nonstop for the past week and they won’t take it outside, and mom is pregnant, ready to blow any moment. And all of this is for a freaking _horse._ ” She shook her head. “Dad will use any excuse to throw a party. Just last year…” she blushed deeply. “Well, never mind.”

            “Wait, your mom is pregnant?” Alex asked, surprised that he hadn’t noticed or that the Schuylers hadn’t told him.

            Peggy rolled her eyes. “She’s _always_ pregnant, and I have yet to become an older sister.”

            Laurens and Alex locked eyes briefly. They both knew what that meant.

            “Still,” Peggy continued, unperturbed. The girl could _talk,_ as Alex found out rather early on, and just thinking of that three hour rant where Peggy went on about women’s fashion and gender stereotypes gave him flashbacks of the worst kind. As it turned out, Angelica wasn’t the only outspoken Schuyler sister. “I’m worried about Angelica. I mean, I’m not _worried,_ she can hold her own. But John has just gotten… freaky. He’s leaving to go to college in London when the semester ends. I think he wants to go, but he’s scared of leaving Angelica behind, like she’ll cheat on him or tell everyone he has a small dick or something.” Laurens laughed and Alex hit him lightly, though he had to cough down a chuckle of his own.

            Peggy shook her head. “But like I’ve said, I’m not worried.” She gestured to the couple that had just come back through the doorway, whispering heatedly. They were close enough that the trio could hear everything they said, though they weren’t sure either of them noticed their audience.

            “I told you to stop!” Angelica slapped John’s hands away from her when he reached out, then going back and grabbing her waist as she tried to push away.

            “C’mon, Angel.”

            “I said _get your hands off of me_!” Angelica shoved him back so that he hit the wall next to Laurens, who grinned at him manically and gave Angelica a thumbs up in a “kick his ass, honey” expression.

            “Wait,” Peggy breathed to Alex, horrified. “That hasn’t happened before.” Peggy looked like she didn’t know if she should charge or run, her fists balled, hanging loosely at her sides.

            “Aw, c’mon,” John crooned, pushing through the crowd after Angelica. Peggy, Laurens, and Alex followed even though it really wasn’t their business. Laurens snagged Lafayette’s arm on the way, who grabbed Mulligan by his collar, and they made a train that wove their way through the other guests, Peggy in the lead. Eliza turned to see what all the fuss was about, and bounced after them as quickly as she could in her heels.

            “Why are you always like this? I try to kiss you, you push me away, I try to hold you, you shout and throw a fit. We’ve been dating for _two years,_ Angel. Aren’t I entitled to _something_ at this point?” He grasped her wrist and Alex nearly punched him, but Laurens held him back.

            “You are entitled to _nothing_ ,” Angelica hissed, trying to wrench herself out of his grip.

            John backed up and rubbed his face, staring Angelica down for a moment before he shook his head, hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I get it.” He looked over the furious faces of their group, all huddled together. His sight fixed on Peggy. “Maybe one of your other sisters would be a bit more willing.”

Behind Alex, Eliza made a small squeak, her hands latching onto his arm. John lunged for Peggy, and before Alex took more than a step forward a huge figure got to John before him and punched him so hard that he collapsed onto the floor with a shout, clutching his face.

Hercules roared softly at John, who looked up at him with terror etched on his face, scrambling to get to his feet. Alex would have laughed if it were any other situation. “You don’t ever disrespect a girl like that, much less _this_ girl,” he pointed to Angelica, whose mouth was open, completely stunned, standing off to the side of the circle that had formed around them. “She can kick your ass in more than one way, and from what I just saw, it looks like you wanted her to, from how many times you refused to listen to her when she said to piss off.” Mulligan glanced around him, at all the stunned guests, at his onlooking friends, at Angelica, and blushed. He took a step back, then fixed one last scary glare at John. “You best be pissing off, ‘cause everyone in this room would probably like to take a swing at you right about now.”

John stalked out, still clutching his bleeding mouth, leaving them all in silence. No one clapped, no one said anything, everyone just stared, until Mulligan backed away, glancing at Alex, Laurens, and Lafayette and pointed to the door. “I’m leaving before I get kicked out.”

They all followed, the crowd parting for them, and walked back to the car in silence. Once they were outside, Angelica ran out and grabbed Mulligan’s sleeve, a rush of words spilling from her as her hands fluttered. The other three kept walking.

* * *

 

Mulligan dropped Alex off at his house. The Livingstons were sitting on the couch, curled up, reading the newspaper when he came in. They asked him how the party was politely, catching him at the base of the stairs.

Alex turned to face them and laughed lightly. “Best party I’ve ever been to.”

* * *

 

 **New Message from Angelica Schuyler: ** hey

 **You:** hey

 **Angelica:** so that all happened

 **You:** yeap. I was there.

 **Angelica:** don’t be like that with me. You know you’re not funny

 **You:** I do indeed. What’s up?

 **Angelica:** *snort*

 **You:** Point taken. How are you doing?

 **Angelica:** I don’t really know. I’ve officially broken up with John. So that’s a weight off my mind. But idk. I guess I just feel sort of numb.

 **You:** Is the party over yet?

 **Angelica** : yeah, after that little *incident* most people left. All that’s left are the drunks that can’t drive home. I’m THIS CLOSE to calling a cab for them myself.

 **You:** sounds lovely

 **Angelica:** you know who broke the silence first? Peggy.

 **You:** I am not surprised.

 **Angelica:** she started laughing/crying like an idiot and just said “I love violence” and then laughed herself up to her room

 **You:** … she scares me sometimes

 **Angelica:** me and you both.

 **Angelica:** Alex? Can I tell you something?

 **You:** You know you can tell me anything.

 **Angelica:** I think I’m asexual.

 **You:** okay. Care to elaborate?

 **Angelica:** After we started dating John was always trying to get handsy, and when we first started going out I just kind of let it slide, because, like, that’s what new relationships were SUPPOSED to be like. Or that’s what I thought. Ugh. I just never really liked it, I guess. Come to think of it, I don’t know why I started dating him in the first place. I’ve known him for five years, and not once have I genuinely thought “This dude is hot, I’m in love.”

 **Angelica:** I did some things I didn’t want to do, and when he told me that he was leaving, idk, I just felt so HAPPY. I wasn’t supposed to be happy, though, because, like, my boyfriend was LEAVING THE COUNTRY. Happy was not something that I should have been feeling.

 **Angelica:** after that he just got worse, and it wasn’t like he was doing anything really /wrong/, because I never really told him how uncomfortable all the PDA made me, so I didn’t really want to say anything, and just sort of figured that it would be over when he was gone. That obviously wasn’t going to happen.

 **Angelica:** and when I said that I felt numb, I don’t really. I feel really good right now. But like, I’ve always sort of felt… numb with people I’ve dated, no matter how short or long that relationship was. I just… yeah. I guess that’s it.

 **Angelica:** now ask me why I told you all of this before I told one of my beloved sisters

 **You:** (is it because ones drunk and the others still laughing manically?) Why did you tell me all of this before one of your beloved sisters?

 **Angelica:** (that’s partly why) because I know your secret.

 **You:** Angelica, I have no secret big enough for you to be investigating. If you want to know anything I’ll tell you.

 **Angelica:** Okay, then tell me what’s going on with you and John Laurens.

 **You:** … what are you talking about

 **Angelica:** DON’T YOU LIE TO ME. “If you want to know anything I’ll tell you.” LYING WON’T WORK BECAUSE I ALREADY KNOW. I KNOW EVERYTHING.

 **You:** well shit, then. what gave it away

 **Angelica:** my well-tuned gaydar. My lack of attraction channels that energy into being able to see through the veil of secret pining and scandalous affairs. Also, I’m not fucking blind. You both have these huge freaking puppy dog eyes and get all together-y when you’re by each other.

 **You:** Ha, well, I guess you know. But PLEASE don’t tell anyone. Also, I don’t think I’m gay.

 **Angelica:** I’m not an asshole, Alex. I won’t tell. And whatever you are, right now you’re in a pretty darn gay relationship.

 **You:** Yeah well, I’d say I’m bi but I’m not sure that it fits. I mean, I like girls, but I don’t know if I _really_ like girls.

 **Angelica:** sounds like something I said three years ago. Still, like I said, I won’t tell, but you should know that Eliza sort of has a crush on you, so just keep that in mind. If you break my sister’s heart, even unintentionally, I am morally obligated to pound your ass.

 **You:** Point taken.

 **Angelica:** Thanks, Alex.

 **You:** for what?

 **Angelica:** For not being an asshole.

 **You:** You must be at a pretty low point in your life for you to thank me for that.

 **Angelica:** Ikr? Goodnight.

 **You:** Night, Angelica. See you Monday.

 **Angelica:** Indeed. Say hi to Laurens for me *winky face*

 **You:** oh my god, out of everyone that could have found out, why did it have to be you?

 **Angelica:** why do you even question it anymore?

 **You:** I really don’t know.

 


	9. Coffee Fixes Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is basically just fluff but it's premise to plot stuff it is HAPPENING SOON WE'RE GETTING THERE THANK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Crossover with Nose to the (coffee) grindstone by smoltinypumpkinchild on fanfic.

Alex laid on Laurens' bedroom floor, waking to a flood of pain pounding against his head. Thoughts of last night swirled through his head, the noise, the rowdiness of his friends, the alcohol, the kissing.

Next to his ear his phone vibrated. He threw it to the other side of the room and fell back asleep.

The next time he woke up it felt like he was being shot repeatedly with small pellets, which actually wasn't far off from reality.

He pulled his blanket around him reflexively and blinked the sleep out of his eyes, only to find the foggy figures of giggling children with nerf guns, all aimed at him. Laurens stood behind them, grinning smugly.

"Sorry. It was late and you wouldn't wake up, so I sent in the younglings." Laurens sounded anything but sorry.

Alex struggled to his feet, shooing off the children as he did. He made exaggerated monster faces at Jemmy, who just wouldn't leave, but he only giggled and chuckled "Funny, Alex," before scurrying out of the room after his siblings.

Alex turned to Laurens and groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes unsuccessfully. "Fuck you."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Laurens laughed and pulled Alex against him. “Except you’re very hungover, so maybe not right now.”

“Please don’t remind me. I want to forget everything about last night. _Everything_ ,” Alex decided, setting his head on Laurens’ shoulder, snuggling his neck.

“I’m afraid that’s not an option, mi amigo, because I have a three minute video of you singing Shakira and showing everyone how little your hips lie.”

“Sweet Jesus.”

“There was nothing holy about it, I assure you.” Laurens laughed and held Alex firmly by the shoulder so he wouldn’t fall over. His head lolled like a bowling ball had taken its place on his neck. “I’m going to go get you some water and aspirin.” Laurens leaned close before whispering, “And congratulations.” Laurens gave him a small kiss before leaving, and Alex looked after him, utterly confused.

“Wait, what?” Alex mumbled to himself. “Did I propose to someone last night or something?” he shouted down the hall, but received no answer.

He heard his phone buzz from the corner where he threw it, and went to pick it up. All of his messages only mirrored what Laurens had just said.

 **From Eliza:** Congratulations!!!!!!! Angelica broke the news to me, I hope that’s okay. I’m so proud of you. You’re going to do so great

 **From herpes marsupial:** wtf? Y u no tell us u genius??? bro, srsly. Nice job.

 **From John Laurens:** !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAKE THE FUCK UP ALREADY SO WE CAN CELEBRATE

 **From John Laurens:** actually you probably celebrated enough last night

 **From John Laurens:** but seriously that’s amazing I’m so proud I didn’t even realize how good you were

 **From John Laurens:** holy hell I’m secretly dating a genius

 **From John Laurens:** WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUP

 **From lafAYETTE:** congrats ya brilliant asshole

 **From Angelica:** *link* GOODMORNING. You’re probably still hungover, but we need to talk. Meet me at the Grind Stone when you’re alive enough to have a sane conversation. You can bring Laurens. Forewarning, Eliza and Peggy are coming too. I’ll explain then.

            Alex could not have been more confused, and resisted the urge to click the link, as his head was already spinning just from looking at the texts. With the letters blurring together, it took him long enough to read those few lines. He doubted he’d make it through a whole article without collapsing from a processing overload.

 **You:** angelica, what are you talking about

 **Angelica:** READ THE ARTICLE. I’ll tell you everything later.

 **You:** I’m TOO HUNGOVER to read the article.

 **Angelica:** HAVE LAURENS READ YOU THE ARTICLE. I’ll see you at 2.

 **You:** What time is now

 **Angelica:** Time for you to get a watch. Look at your phone, dumbass

            Alex did. It was already twelve thirty-four. He sighed.

 **You:** don’t count on us being on time

 **Angelica:** I had very low hopes for that, don’t you worry

            Alex sighed, threw his phone back on the floor, and set himself on Laurens bed carefully, adjusting to the soreness of his body. Sleeping on the floor probably hadn’t been a great idea, but Alex couldn’t remember having made that decision.

            Nothing made sense. What did he do that was so great? He racked his brain, and there was nothing that would garner this sort of response from his friends. Maybe that Shakira video went viral or something. He really had no idea, and that was the worst part of all.

            Laurens came back with the promised water and aspirin which Alex took gratefully. Between gulps of water, he began his questioning.

            “Okay, so what’s going on? I have no idea.”

            Laurens looked puzzled. “What? What do you mean what’s going on?” Suddenly he looked frightened. “You know who and where you are, right? You don’t have amnesia or anything?”

            “No, no, no. I know I got pathetically drunk at a New Year’s party last night and I woke up on your floor. What I don’t understand is why I’m being congratulated and called a genius. Seriously, my karaoke last night couldn’t have been _that_ good.”

            Laurens’ face froze at an expression in between a laugh and a sneeze. “You mean, you don’t know what you just did?”

            “WHAT COULD I HAVE POSSIBLY DONE IN ONE NIGHT THAT HAS SUCH AN IMPACT ON MY FRIENDS PERCEPTION OF ME?”

            “Okay, wait, I’m confused,” Laurens shook his head.

            “That makes two of us. Angelica said she’ll explain everything at that one café.”

            “The Grind Stone? And Angelica said what?” Realization dawned on Laurens' face. “Oh.”

            “’Oh’ WHAT?”

            “Get in the car.”

            “What about the kids?”

            “Ms. Prichard’s coming over at one. Martha can hold down the fort, anyway.” Laurens led him to the half of the hall that held all of the kids’ rooms. Each of them were still in their pajamas, fully absorbed in the games they were playing on their tablets. “See? All fine. They’ve been home alone before. Sometimes I forget they’re here and I run around in a panic thinking I lost them.

            “Martha!” Laurens shouted to his sister. “You’re in charge for about twenty minutes.”

            “Okay, John,” she mumbled, not looking up from her screen.

            Laurens gave Alex a thumbs up. “We’re all set.”

            Alex grabbed his coat and slid on his boots (which he needed Laurens to help with, his head was spinning so terribly) and went out to Laurens’ car.

            Laurens hair was a mess, grinning manically with his dimples in full force, proudly announcing when he opened the garage door, “This is Beatrice.”

            ‘Beatrice’ was a pristine baby blue VW Beetle. Alex couldn’t say he was surprised, but he sure wasn’t expecting it. He patted the hood gently. “Hello, Beatrice.”

            “Great, now that you two are acquainted, now get in the passenger seat.”

            “Don’t you think that’s a little rushed? We only just met,” Alex smiled goofily and slide into the seat. Laurens looked like he wanted to be mad but couldn’t.

            “Put on your seatbelt,” Laurens told him as he started the car.

            “Since when have you become my mother?”

            “I failed my driving test three times, and all three evaluators quit after they drove with me. Even the one that passed me, actually.”

            “Seatbelt secured.”

            After Laurens pulled out of the drive way and they were a ways down the street, Alex could have sworn he heard Laurens whisper something like, “If you puke in Beatrice I will kill you and the automobile gods will reign down their punishment upon you.” He figured he was just imagining things.

* * *

 

Alex and Laurens beat the Schuylers to the Grind Stone, probably because they were nearly an hour early, but Alex wasn't about to mention that. Once they were there Alex asked Laurens to read the article to him, but Laurens refused, leaving Alex to find a seat as Laurens ordered. 

The Grind Stone was actually pretty close to Albany Prep, and they all frequented the magical little coffee shop whether it was after school or after work or neither and they just wanted a magical coffee. It seemed to be open twenty-four seven, which Alex thought was kind of ridiculous for a small little cafe, but he wasn't complaining. The first time Angelica had brought him there, late after work one night, he could have sworn he'd been there before. They seemed to know exactly what he wanted before he even ordered. Alex thought the barista looked sort of like Laurens, but he figured he was just tired and thinking about Laurens way too much.

Alex plopped into a booth while Laurens ordered, and glancing over at the counter he could have sworn he saw Angelica. No, the barista was a little taller than Laurens, her hair worn in a high ponytail, curls frizzing in a cloud above her head. Despite the weather she wore a cropped tank top that put her toned muscles on full display. Alex did not want to get into a fight with her, that was for sure. She was slouching, a weary hunch to her shoulders, but she smiled at Laurens and laughed at something he said. Alex wasn't surprised. They came here so often that he was pretty sure between Angelica, Lafayette, and Laurens, they had all the regular baristas as contacts in their phones. You never knew when you'd have to call ahead for a large group coffee run.

Alex rubbed his eyes and yawned. Even if they put hallucinogens in their products that made him see double of all his friends, he didn't really care. They made damn good coffee.

Laurens came back with two drinks, both still steaming. Alex took his gratefully.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Psh. Hell if I know,” Laurens snorted.

“You’re the one who ordered!”

“I just said to hit me up with something for me and something for the hungover idiot at the table. Alex, it’s the coffee chooses the wizard, not the other way around.”

Alex rolled his eyes and took a sip. It was truly a beautiful cup of coffee. He couldn’t ignore Laurens’ logic, especially not when he quoted Harry Potter.

Alex continued to badger Laurens to read the article for him, and when he said no Alex tried himself, but the font and boldness of just the title made his eyes ache and head spin even more. The coffee seemed to be helping, though. Alex owed a lot of his ability to not feel crappy all the time to coffee.

The Schuylers showed up twenty minutes before the scheduled time. Angelica and Eliza looked upbeat but exhausted, and Peggy was staring at her phone. She nearly ran into a wall as they made their way over to the table.

“And I thought we’d have a little sisterly bonding time before the boys decided to show up,” Angelica teased as she slid into the booth next to Laurens. Eliza sat next to Alex, smiling hugely, and Peggy went to the table adjacent from them after buying a muffin and a latte.

The four in the booth were silent.

Alex looked at each of his friends. Angelica tapped her fingernails against the table with a slight grin, Laurens stared at her intently, and Eliza was slipping off her coat.

Sighing deeply, Alex firmly placed his hands on the table, looking to each of the people around him. “Alright, will _someone please tell me what’s going on_?”

Eliza met his stare, puzzled. “Wait, you don’t know? Angelica sent _everyone_ the article, and I’m assuming she sent it to you?”

“She did, but I’m a wee bit hungover, and that idiot over there has been refusing to read it to me,” Alex pointed an accusatory finger at Laurens, who crossed his arms and stared Alex down in response.

“I am not at fault, nor do I have some explaining to do,” he claimed as he turned to face Angelica, who rolled her eyes. Now that three pairs of expectant eyes were on her, she froze.

“Okay, okay, okay,” she said, addressing each of them with both of her pointer fingers. “It depends on your point of view, but this will either make me seem like a wonderful friend of a pompous, over-reaching asshole.”

“Well aren’t I excited to hear about this now,” Alex murmured.

“Angelica, what-“ Eliza started before her sister cut her off.

“Just please let me explain. Please, don’t interrupt. Leave all your questions to the end, and keep the outbursts to a minimum. Alright. Are we ready now?”

“I don’t know, I think I need some more coffee,” Alex said, but Angelica disregarded him completely and began her explanation. Laurens flagged down the barista and ordered another “something for the hungover idiot.”

“So,” she began. “Alex and I have been working together quite a bit lately on articles for the Legacy Paper. But because we’re high schoolers and have zero authority, they rarely publish them, even if they are literary masterpieces. The last big thing we worked on was a social piece on the perception of superiority and the impact on minorities. Particularly, this was focused on the white patriarchy, but we had a bit on disabilities and gender. And it was good. _Real_ good, if I say so myself. Eliza and Peggy read it, and they agree. But it was too long for us to publish and posting it on a blog wasn’t any kind of productive. So I saw this ad.”

Alex hated to think where this was going. He and Angelica _had_ worked really hard on that project. Really, he’d put most of it together, and Angelica had gathered quotes and facts and interviews.

“It was a contest that King’s College was hosting,” at this point she seemed to be speaking directly to Alex, and not explaining the background to everyone else. He shifted in the booth, uncomfortable, and took a burning sip of his coffee without a flinch.

“Something that that piece finally qualified for. And, well, I had just done research and interviews. Alex wrote it. And he deserved to get recognized for it.” She leaned back and crossed her arms. “Now, I didn’t know if I should had asked, but I was pretty sure that if I did he wouldn’t have entered because of the work _I_ put into it, which is stupid, because he did the hard part of actually writing it. I just put in bits and pieces. Alex finished the puzzle and framed it and smoothed it out into a picture.

“So I snooped a bit more than I should have an entered you in the contest and you won. The prize was a scholarship and the submission published in the school newsletter. Everyone who’s read it loves it, and it was announced yesterday. I should have told you sooner. Sorry.” She didn’t look sorry. And when she grabbed his drink and took a gulp and stared him down, he _knew_ she wasn’t sorry.

Alex’s head was spinning. He glanced at Laurens and Eliza, who were squirming in their seats, happy but uncomfortable.

“What was the scholarship?” he murmured, feeling lightheaded.

“Full-ride, any major, room and board, all that.”

Alex squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands against his temple. “I’m _definitely_ going to need some more coffee.”

* * *

 

“Are you going to accept it?” Laurens asked quietly, his fingers toying at Alex’s baggy sleeve but not reaching for his hand.

Alex sighed, his mind as foggy as the sky, heavy with the dregs of sunlight flickering over the horizon. It had been hours since they’d left the Schuylers at the Grind Stone. Neither of them knew where to go or what to do, so they’d just wandered, until they found themselves back at the library. More specifically, the park a block away from the library. It was abandoned, more or less, and puddles from rain a few hours before had left them jumping over puddles just to get to the ledge they were sitting on.

“I don’t know,” Alex breathed. “I didn’t think I had many options to hope for. This almost seems… too easy.”

Laurens looked dismayed. “What do you mean?”

“Like, it’s a wonderful opportunity, but I didn’t really… _work_ for it. It doesn’t feel like I earned it.”

“You casually wrote a ten thousand word expose and got accepted to one of the most elite universities in the state, not to mention the critical acclaim you’re getting, and you think you didn’t work for it?”

“Well, no.”

Laurens sighed dramatically before dissolving into breathy laughter. “I don’t even know what I’m going to do with you.”

Alex laughed lightly. He was tired. He didn’t want to think about scholarships or work or future or anything. “It’s not like I’ll have to make a decision anytime soon. I just don’t know how I’d refuse. It seems too big to turn down, but too big to accept at the same time. Ahrg.”

Laurens draped his arm over Alex’s shoulder as they watched the last bit of orange fade from the sky. “You’ll figure it out. You got time.”

“Yeah,” Alex whispered, leaning against Laurens’ side. “I’ve got time.”

* * *

 

Laurens dropped Alex off at his house when the Livingstons were packing up dinner. They got him out a plate anyway.

“How was the party?” Mrs. Livingston asked.

“Great,” Alex replied, conveniently leaving out the underage drinking and the embarrassing and possibly profane video of him that was most definitely not in his companion’s untrustworthy possession. “Nice to see everyone.”

“I’ll bet. Oh, and Alex,” she scurried into the hall before returning with an envelope in hand. “You got mail.” She smiled and left him to finish his meal.

He put his plate in the dishwasher before dragging himself up to his room, and threw the envelope, unopened, onto his desk before throwing himself onto his bed.

Too much was on his mind for any dreams to come to him that night.


	10. Come Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot. It's happening.
> 
> {wrote all of this today, I wish it was longer, but I'M EXCITED.}

            Alex did what any other teenager would do when faced with a life-changing decision: he ignored it.

            Of course, there were a few times when the headmaster or editor at King’s College called him to congratulate him. Alex did his best to ooze politeness and make no commitments during those calls. The conversations always ended with a cheery “looking forward to seeing you here at King’s College!”

            Alex never disagreed.

            But uncertainty hung around him, like a smell he couldn’t wash out of his shirt. Nothing was what he expected. He couldn’t remember if what he was living was more than what he wanted when he had first realized he was moving to New York, or less.

            He really didn’t know.

            Most of the time when the idea racketed around in his head, he couldn’t believe it was a decision at all. It felt definite. He won. He may have involuntarily, unknowingly, unwittingly, but he did. On one hand, there was no way out, no way to say no. But he felt he could hardly say yes. And there were so many other _options_. Once, briefly, Laurens had mentioned skipping the pre-planned college his father had picked for him and joining the Peace Corps. Alex was so shocked at the brilliance, and suddenness, of that idea that he could hardly respond. It seemed so good, so _right_ , especially for Laurens _._ And that only opened Alex up to all the other possibilities. There were so many other colleges, too. So many other paths he could take.

            Laurens didn’t push him on it, though, for which Alex could have wept.  Alex had nothing new to say on the matter, anyway; the mess in his mind was exactly the same and was driving him to near madness as it was. And Laurens had an inerrable sense for when Alex’s mind needed to be left alone to untangle itself.

            Once he’d gotten into the habit of ignoring it all, everything was fine. He did great, if not better than before in school, and was starting second semester with a four-point-oh. He could tell that he was about to get promoted at work, which was the only reason he wasn’t stressing about trying to find a second job.

            Which would sort of be stupid anyway, if he did end up taking his full ride scholarship. Besides, he liked his job.

            “I can feel it,” he’d told Laurens during one of their finals study sessions. “They can’t keep me on the backburner any longer, considering.”

            Laurens had snorted. “Yes, they can.”

            Alex tried to whack him, but missed, and after Laurens laughed at Alex’s poor aim he said, “No, you’re right. They really can’t. You’re too good for them, anyway.” Though Laurens had said it with a smile, something in his voice turned faint and thin, like a dimmer-switch. Alex bit his lip, then ran his thumb over Laurens’ knuckles. The only reason he didn’t kiss him full on right there and then was that they were in the school library for a quiet study hall.

            It was late January now, and Alex was once again on his way to the library, wishing Laurens were with him. But Laurens hadn’t been there all week, off on a show choir trip. Alex hadn’t even known that Laurens was in show choir until he’d told Alex he’d be gone on this trip, about two days before he left. In Alex’s bag was one letter for every day Laurens was gone, a way to keep Alex from going insane since Laurens wasn’t there to help with that endeavor especially with his brain in the state it was in.

His gloves had holes in them and the cold wind stung every part of him that wasn’t covered. Only then did he begin to reconsider getting a second job. Then he could invest in his own car.

            Not like he’d be able to drive it.

            Alex sprinted up to the doors and felt himself melting when his cold body met the warm heated air and word-filled atmosphere. All the stress stinging his nerves lulled, as if it had been buried under a blanket of snow and was nowhere in sight. His vision cleared, his shivers eased, and he was home. A smile crept on his face and he did his best to restrain it.

            He walked through his usual routine: waved hello to the libraries, slipped the book he’d just finished into the book return, and stomped off to his corner, ready to write his daily letter to Laurens and read until he went blind, but a slumped figure at a table he was passing stopped him in his tracks.

            “Burr?”

            Burr jerked awake, glancing around quickly before focusing on Alex and groaning, then sprawling back onto the table.

            “Are… you okay?” Alex asked, half stepping towards the disheveled thing before him and half flinching away. Like a car crash. But with a human. Who’d only collided with their self.

            “What do you want, Hamilton?” Burr asked, heavily muffled, as his head was still buried in his arms.

            “Whoa, whoa, okay, what happened to you?” Alex sat down and put his hands on the table, concerned, but also curious.

            Burr slowly brought his head up off the table, moaning the whole while. Alex had no other way to describe it: the man looked like hell. His face was thin, deep, dark circles seemed to be the only thing weighing down his eyes to keep them open. Hints of stubble traced a shadow across Burr’s jaw line, and it looked as if he hadn’t changed his clothes in several days.

            Or taken a shower.

            “Why are you here?” Burr demanded, though he seemed too exhausted to be interested.

            “Um, well, it’s the library. I come here quite often. But, you… Aaron, are you okay? Is there something I can-“

            “You could leave.”

            Both of them sat with stern, clamped jaws.

            “What’s wrong?” Alex asked one last time. If Burr returned with hostility, Alex would leave him alone.

            Burr sighed sharply and rubbed his face, and while his hands were covering it he seemed to choke out a single sob before wiping his nose and folding his hands together and placing them on the table, his worn eyes meeting Alex’s calmly. “I’m studying.”

            Alex couldn’t help himself. He snorted and chuckled, then cut his laughter off seeing Burr’s fuming waves of anger. They only made him look that much more miserable. “Sure as hell you are. It looks like you haven’t slept in a week.”

            “That’s more or less true.”

            “… Finals were over last week-“

            “It’s not finals, dipshit.”

            Alex was taken aback, not by being called a dipshit, but by Burr’s overall demeanor. He stayed quiet and let Burr sigh and compose himself.

            “I’m a bit overworked. Lots of college applications, job applications…”

            “You haven’t been at work lately.”

            “I’ve been doing it from home.”

            “Uh, well, ok. Hey, if you need help with application stuff, the library has a lot of-“

            “I’m not applying for anything right this second so mind your own business!”

            Once again, silence hollowed the air. Alex really didn’t know what to do. He was scared, for Burr, and a bit for himself.

            Burr, despite being royally ticked at Alex, looked him in the eyes, his head drooping as he made his confession. “I failed one of my finals, and now I have to get in all the coursework I did wrong or missed and redo my final thesis by the end of the month, or I fail the course.”

            “Ah,” Alex responded.

            “Yep. So as you can see, you can do nothing to help, Mr. Full-Ride, so please leave.”

            “Wh _oa._ What did you just call me?” Alex mentally griped at himself for letting Burr tick him off like that. It was not a good time for that. But, Alex had never been great at restraining himself, and there was nothing around to act in place of a good judgement. No _one_ , for that matter.

            “You got the King’s College scholarship, didn’t you? Or are you so caught up with-“

            “How do you know about that?” Alex questioned.

            Burr gave him the ‘why are you such a dipshit’ look again. “Everyone applied. And yet, _you_ got it. With a piece quite unoriginal and bland, if I may add.” Burr sniffed, which made Alex both want to punch Burr right then and there, and also brought him back down to earth. Made him realize who he was talking to, what they were implying. Alex took a deep breath.

            “Well, I can tell you that it wasn’t my intention to apply for the contest, and I can’t help that I won, so if you could calm your dick, that would be great. Now, as for you failing a final, you’re not going to do better if you kill yourself trying to study. You have to take care of yourself, even though it feels like you’re wasting time. Something I’ve learned and relearned many times,” Alex began lecturing Burr as he set his backpack on the chair next to him, shook off his coat, and walked to the back room. Burr watched him the whole time, saying nothing, even as Alex walked away, still talking. He came back a few minutes later with a tea offering, which Burr took hesitantly, but took it, nonetheless.

            “-and you have to know what you’re doing before you do it, especially with things like this, otherwise you won’t know what you’re doing and it won’t get done. Or it will just take way longer to get done, and you will be dead before it is finished. You are clearly in worse shape than your grade, so I would recommend that you go home and rest, but you’re quite determined, stubborn, self-loathing, and pissed at the moment, so I’m not seeing that happening. So, do some small things to get yourself in order and ease your mind, and then, for the love of god, sleep a bit.”

            With that, Alex was done, Burr was no longer his concern, so he sat and pulled out his notebook, scrawling out _Dear Laurens, I’m really fucking mad right now but I’m doing a pretty good job of being calm and helpful, you would be proud_ before Burr spoke again.

            “Hamilton.”

            “Mhm?”

            “What are you still doing here?”

            “Working and making sure you don’t die.”

            Burr had nothing to say to that, especially after Alex gave him a solid stare to let him know how serious he was.

            Alex finished his letter while Burr sipped the tea, pulled out a few of his papers, scratching at them every here and there. Alex was surprise at how at ease Burr seemed now. There was a bit of structure back in his posture, a little less misery stretching his face. Alex was proud of himself.

            Then he realized that as he may be able to take care of other people’s crap, he was pretty helpless when it came to his own. He sighed and muttered curses to himself under his breath and closed his notebook.

            Alex dug through his backpack to find his novel for English, but got lost in the sea of disorganized papers half-hazardly shoved in every pocket of his bag. He began pulling out thick stacks of pages. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Burr’s widen in awe (or horror) as Alex worked.

            Once they were finally all out, he began riffling through to see if there was anything he could throw away, anything to alleviate the mess. Before he could get very far, though, he noticed one that he’d dropped and bent to pick it up, then saw that it was the envelope Mrs. Livingston had handed him weeks ago.

            Oops. He hoped it wasn’t important.

            Leaning back in his chair, he opened it, not sparing the address labels a glance.

            But he went back and looked at the return address as soon as he’d skimmed the first line.

            _No._

_No._

_Mother of shit, no._

Alex felt Burr looking at him, and fought to remain calm as he reread the return address again, then set the torn envelope aside and went back to the letter. He tried to not notice how badly his hands were shaking.

            _Dear Alexander,_

_You couldn’t have bothered to leave your new address when you left, could you have? Well, what’s done is done, isn’t it now? It just made things a bit harder for me to find you again, but if you’re reading this, I obviously did._

_You see, I care about you. Is that a foreign concept to you? So foreign that you had to high tail it to America? You didn’t give a damn about us back here. You’re lucky that I’m trying to help you now._

_I’m trying to help you. Yes. Because you’re fucked. I’m also fucked, but you’ll be fucked worse if you don’t come home._

_After Uncle Peter went and shot himself, I was going through several documents, arranging the estate entirely by myself, I might add, and I found some not so pretty things. Like the debt Uncle Peter owes for twenty plus years of a heroin addiction. Or the money dad owes to basically everyone that breathed the same air as him._

_I already spent a night in jail due to some assholes coming to collect their due. They asked me where you were. They know you left. Everyone does, though you think you did it so cleverly. They think you have the money since you conveniently left days before it all happened. They’ll find you, and whatever measly comforts you’ve managed to find for yourself, they’ll take. They already took mom’s old house and Peter’s old house. I’m working as their drug mule to keep them from forcing me to down some arsenic or find you and shoot you myself._

_I found you, Alex. They’ll find you, too._

_Come home. I have some savings to keep them off our trail and so we can get away, go to Europe. They don’t have many reliable connections outside of the Americas. After that you can get rid of me._

_If you’ve ever cared about your family, or even yourself, come home._

_James Hamilton Jr._

            Alex couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even think about breathing. He set the letter down, and froze in his place. Burr must have noticed, because shortly before Alex went unconscious, Burr set down his own paper and reached out to Alex, but didn’t touch him.

            “Hamilton? Are you okay?”

            Hearing his name, Alex snapped out of his mindless daze with a fearful tug in his chest.

            Immediately, he began gathering up his papers, though his vision was swimming and his hands were shaking. He was completely unaware of what he was doing, he only knew that he had to get _out_. That had always been his first instinct. _Out, gone, away_

            “Hamilton? What, where-“

            “I’m sorry, I have to go. Get some sleep, Burr. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Alex barely felt himself tug the zipper of his bag closed and shrug on his coat.

            Static filled his head, his ears, his fingers.

            _James._

His _brother._

            Alex didn’t even think of taking the bus home. By the time he got there, after walking through the beginnings of a blizzard, there was an inch of snow covering him, and he could feel absolutely nothing, numb to his soul.

            _James._


	11. A Letter That Was Never Meant To Be Read (A Lie That Was Never Meant To Be Told)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took me months to write this sorry.  
> Coming out, bad slam poetry, and donuts. Well, almost donuts. TJeff makes a valiant return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write slam poems. Watch this instead: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j4m3AJamQYM

 Alex found that he was particularly gifted with ignoring things.

            After he went home and hyperventilated for a few hours, his mind finally eased and he could clear all the fear away, leaving a burning numbness that was almost comforting but was too painful to settle his body, instead it made his fingers twitch and his eyes refuse to shut.

            Then he sat and read until he couldn’t because the sun had set and the snow had covered the windows and his eyes were sore with strain.

            Alex didn’t realize he had cried himself to sleep until he woke up in the early hours with a damp pillow, puffy eyes, and dread sinking his soul deeper into his bones.

* * *

 

            “Why must the universe wish my demise to be slow, agonizing, and thoroughly and completely shitty?” Lafayette posed that question to the lunch table as he sat down with a proper _whomp_. He did not wait for an answer before he collapsed and buried his head in his arms. All they saw of him was a poof of hair and elbows.

            “He had a pop quiz in Physics last hour,” Mulligan informed them of the ever so useful context of the situation. They all nodded sympathetically. A muffled groan of curses came from Laf’s heap. A second later, he sprang out of his cocoon, pointing an accusatory finger at Mulligan.

            “How did you know? You aren’t in my class.”

            “I have it first hour this semester,” Mulligan replied, calmly folding his hands as he met Laf’s fierce stare.

            Lafayette gasped. “And you didn’t warn me?! A thousand curses upon you!” He slapped Mulligan lightly, but the anger in it was not lost.

            The rest of them watched in amusement. Laf and Herc always seemed to be like that, even when Laurens had first met them, as he’d told Alex.

            “I believe they were born bickering with each other, and they will die bickering with each other.”

            Alex definitely thought it was a solid possibility.

            Angelica packed up her scraps and got up to throw them away. When she came back she slapped her hands on the table. They were all immediately at attention and snapped their heads to face her. They knew she meant business.

            “Why are you all looking at me like that?” she asked.

            “You’re in your ‘listen up, y’all, cuz I got something to say and I’m dead serious’ stance,” Laurens told her through a mouthful of cheeseburger. Remarkably, they were all able to understand him, as they all had quite a bit (some of them, years) of practice.

            “Well,” she said, smoothing over her embarrassment as professionally as she did anything else, and sat down. “I was simply curious if anyone would be up for attending a pro-humanity rally with me this Friday.”

            “Where?” inquired Laurens.

            “In the cold?” Alex whined.

            “Oui, oui, Angelica,” Lafayette confirmed.

            “What time? We can’t be out too late,” Eliza pouted.

            “Mmhmp,” said Mulligan.

            Angelica glanced around at them. “Great. I take that as you’re all coming.” She looked pointedly at Alex. “It’s _indoors_ , by the way. For the most part, at least.”

            “What is this for, precisely?” Laurens asked after he had fully swallowed his food.

            “Pro-human, basically anyone who can breathe deserves a voice. There’s going to be speakers and organizations, and a march, but you don’t have to stay for that. It’s very open, very independent. It’s basically, sort of a social festival.”

            “Ugh, so there will be people?” Alex groaned.

            They all looked at him with various degrees of annoyance.

            “Kidding, kidding,” though he only was for the most part.

            “Well, I’m in,” Laurens decided. “Anyone need a ride?”

            “For the _final_ time, you are _not_ driving. Anywhere. At all. Ever. We’re not going to risk our lives going to a rally to celebrate our lives,” Lafayette told Laurens with a stern-dad tone. He banged his fist on the table once he was done.

            Wide-eyed, Laurens nodded. “Okay. Understood.”

            Mulligan cleared his throat. “Angelica and I are driving. Also, this is hopefully a good time for me to tell you…” he glanced at Angelica and she nodded, as if in reassurance.

            Mulligan took a breath. “I’m agender,” he finished.

            The table was quiet, which obviously wasn’t the response Mulligan wanted.

            “You see, I – I’ve been ta – talking with Angelica and –“ he floundered.

            Lafayette laid a hand on Mulligan’s arm. “My dear Hercules, you do not need to explain to us. Are there any pronouns you prefer?”

            Mulligan was taken aback and stuttered his answer. “Oh, uh, he/him is fine for now. I mean, I’m still getting used to it myself, but… I’d like to go by they/them.”

            “Then that’s what you shall be,” Laf told them.

            “Yup,” Laurens said, standing to clasp Mulligan’s shoulder. “We got your back, buddy. And I know I don’t speak for anyone, but you don’t have much to worry about with us. Right guys?”

            “Right,” Alex and Eliza answered in unison.

            Mulligan nodded tentatively. “Alright,” they said, glancing at Laf again before sitting down, their flushed face slowly returning to its normal color.

            “Great,” Angelica said, a grin stretching her face. “Well, I’ll make sure everyone gets all the info and whatnot for the rally.” The bell rang, ending their lunch hour. “I’ll see you all later.”

            “See you, Angelica.”

            Alex had gathered his books and was heading off to his locker when Mulligan snagged his shoulder.

            “Hey,” Alex smiled, elbowing them lightly. “Congrats, dude.”

            Before, Mulligan had been fidgeting, their eyes shifting every which way. But now they stared at Alex blankly, their eyebrows scrunched.

            “On coming out and all. It’s not an easy thing to do, even with friends.”

            Mulligan blushed. “Well, thanks. I’m glad you all are so accepting.”

            “Of course we are. We’re your friends. Haven’t you know Laf since you were like, seven? I’m just saying, we’re here for you, buddy. Anytime.”

            “Well, thank you. And that’s actually what I… well. I, I wanted to thank you.”

            It was Alex’s turn to be confused. His step faltered and he had to catch himself before he toppled over. “Me? What did I do?”

            “Well, your article. The scholarship one. You had that section on LGBTQA+ and, I don’t know, it just… made sense. Fit. Of course I’ve seen stuff about all that before, but… I guess this was different. It struck a chord. After Angelica came out as ace, I asked her about it and we talked it through, and well, it just worked.”

            “I… I don’t know what to say. I’m honored, really.”

            Mulligan smiled, bright and bigger than Alex had thought possible. “What can I say; you inspired me.”

            They were nearly at Alex’s locker, but he stopped in the hall and pulled Mulligan aside. “You know if there’s anything I or any of the others can do for you, just say so, and we’ll be with you in a heartbeat. I mean it.”

            “Thanks. I know. Just,” they paused, thinking, a bit of their nervous twitchiness breaking into their composure again. “Treat me like a person. Like how you always have.”

            “Of course.”

            “Thanks, Alex. That really means a lot.”

            “Anytime.”

            Alex watched Mulligan as they walked down the hall, smiling faintly.

            Only then did he realize that he had forgotten what he needed from his locker, and walked back the way he’d came to his next class instead, without a glance back.

* * *

 

            Freshly brewed coffee stung Alex’s nose as Angelica set a mug on his desk. He sighed, feeling near tears. “Thank you, so very much,” he nearly collapsed at the first sip, burning, strong, glorious.

            “No problem; you need it,” she chuckled, then sat next to him. Only one other journalist was on duty, and he was working fervently, if his job was napping and drooling over his keyboard.

            Angelica studied Alex for several moments before he noticed, absorbed in his coffee.

            “What?” he asked after another gulp.

            She posed as if she was going to say something, then shrank back and thought for a moment. “Are you alright?”

            Alex scrunched his face in false dismay. “What made you think I wasn’t?”

            “You’ve… been off,” she explained to him slowly, as if she was breaking him bad news.

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” his voice cracked.

            She nodded, as if she’d told him the bad news, and he’d burst into tears and punched a wall, just as she’d expected. “Well, first of all, you’re denying it, which makes it obvious you’re trying to hide something-“

            “No, it doesn’t!” he scoffed indignantly.

            She frowned patiently. “I’m not a talented journalist for nothing.” She stared, which he met, forcefully trying not to break.

            She sighed. “You know you can tell me anything, Alex.”

            “Yeah, I know.” Neither of them said anything. Alex felt guilt – and nerves – squeeze his chest, and he spoke quickly before he confessed the letter.

            “So, Herc really… I mean… my article?”

            Angelica smiled softly and nodded. “Yep. I told you it was good writing… Alex…” she waited for him to turn back and face her. “I don’t think you realize the effect you have on people.”

            Alex must have had a stupid look on his face, because she laughed and looked at him sympathetically. “See? Exactly what I mean.”

            “Well, thanks, I guess.” Alex took another gulp of coffee and poised himself to go back to typing, believing the conversation to be over.”

            “This isn’t about Laurens, is it?”

            Alex finally began to get frustrated with Angelica. “What?! No! Seriously, why would you think that?” Angelica opened her mouth and began to speak, but Alex cut her off, his speech getting louder and faster with each word. “And I am _not_ denying it to verify it. And I know that I can tell you anything, but that doesn’t mean I have to tell you _everything_! And my whole life doesn’t revolve around any relationships I may or may not have!”

            Angelica held her hands out, conceding, but her slight grin betrayed her true thoughts. “Okay, okay… but if the reason why you won’t tell me about it is because you want the whole thing to be kept a secret, I’m just saying, it would be an unusually good time to come out.”

            Alex said nothing, suddenly numb with an exhaustion that even coffee couldn’t remedy.

            She stood. “Well, okay. I’ll leave you to it, then.”

            Alex was the last to leave that night. It was so late that he saw no one else on the streets aside from a few cars.

            He walked home, despite the cold wind and the dark.

* * *

 

            “Are you ready to SUPPORT HUMANITYYYY?!”

            “Laurens, you absolutely need to shut up and… never do _that_ again. Eliza told him as they piled into Angelica’s car.

            Somehow the seating arrangements (Alex had no doubt it had been Angelica’s doing) had Alex and Laurens split. Alex was just surprised Angelica hadn’t kept him with her so she could keep an eye on him.

            “Alright, alright, fine. I’ll keep my support of my fellow men on the low,” Laurens teased.

            “And woman!” Peggy shouted.

            “And humans! Laf and Herc echoed.

            “I meant ‘man’ as in hu _mans_ ,” Laurens clarified loudly.

            “Calm yourself, John,” Angelica ordered, pointing her finger at him. “I won’t tolerate any dissent today. None. Not even over if your cheeseburger has pickles on it. Capiche?” They mumbled their agreement with various degrees of conviction, and shoved into their assigned vehicles. Shortly after Alex had buckled himself in the back of Mulligan’s minivan, he was soon treated to Mulligan and Lafayette’s constant light arguing. And they hadn’t even pulled out of the Schuylers’ driveway yet.

            Alex sighed and settled back into his seat, planning to nap during the hour long ride to the convention center. Before he could get comfortable, his phone buzzed.

 **John Laurens:** my god

 **You:** what

 **John Laurens:** I’m in a car with all three Schuyler sisters

 **John Laurens:** how did this happen

 **You:** I’d blame Angelica

 **John Laurens:** nah imam blame you

 **You:** what WHY

 **John Laurens:** you obviously did something

 **John Laurens:** wait

 **John Laurens:** does Angelica know

 **You:** well, yeah. I mean, it’s Angelica

 **John Laurens:** *sigh* yeah I guess

 **You:** she told me that now would be an oddly appropriate time to come out, you know

 **John Laurens:** that is quite true, but I’d rather not

 **You:** okay. Any particular reason why?

 **John Laurens:** this might sound terrible, but… I guess I just don’t feel like it. And we both got a lot going on. I don’t know, I guess I like this between us.

 **You:** *smiley face* yeah, me too

 **John Laurens:** okay but seriously, what did you do?

 **You:** Angelica thought I was acting weird and she thought it was because you and I were fighting or something

 **John Laurens:** omg that’s sort of ridiculous and also not exactly her business (but what ever is?) and what’s she trying to do, see if we have separation anxiety or something? And that still doesn’t explain why she’s watching me and not you

 **John Laurens:** also, you have been a little off lately. What’s up?

 **You:** I have no idea what’s she’s thinking

 **You:** and WHAT IS IT WITH EVERYONE

 **You:** I AM FINE

 **John Laurens:** …

 **You:** oh god not you too

 **John Laurens:** hey, I’m just saying, there’s very little you can tell me that would make me upset at you (strictly at you, anyway)

 **You:** okay, john

 **John Laurens:** … so you’re sure everything’s alright?

 **You:** no, it’s not

 **You:** but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Nothing I haven’t dealt with before

 **John Laurens:** well okay.

 **John Laurens:** have you ever heard the kind of music Peggy listens to? I don’t know if I want to cry, vomit, or sing along

 **You:** you’re telling me, it took the Dynamic Duo 10 minutes to decide on this atrocious Spanish rap. It’s already stuck in my head

            They continued like that throughout the rest of the car ride, discussing their happenings, and their companions’ poor music choices. Alex smiled at Laurens’ replies, but still he sat there, the lie stinging through his whole body. He couldn’t get comfortable after that.

* * *

 

            The convention center for the rally was _huge_. They had to park three city blocks away, and then they had to make it through the crowds of people holding signs.

            Alex had never seen a more amazing sight in his life.

            None of them had really known what to expect, but now that they were there, they didn’t know if they’d be able to leave.

            “How’s the cold?” Laurens asked Alex smugly.

            “Shut up,” Alex grumbled. “You know as well as I do that I was being a pissbucket when I said that. No need to tease me about what I said when I was cranky.”

            “You know I still will.”

            Alex sighed, then tried to repress his smile but failed, matching Laurens’ grin with his own. “Yeah, I do.”

            “How was your ride?” Angelica inquired as she strode over to them.

            Alex was pretty sure both he and Laurens would have replied with “Fuck off” if it were anyone else. “Oh, just lovely,” Alex answered with a fake smile. Laurens did the same. “I loved listening to the Two Stooges argue about everything from prison sentences to yogurt to reclining furniture for an hour.”

            Angelica sighed and nodded regretfully, glancing over at Mulligan and Lafayette. “They do argue a lot.”

            They turned and glared at her in unison. “We do not!”

            The three tried not to laugh, and only were partly successful.

            “Okay, well, once we get in, it’s a five dollar admission, but I have it covered,” Angelica told the group, only Peggy inattentive, with her earbuds in. Angelica ignored her. “If it’s okay with everyone, we’re going to start in the amphitheater, where there’s speakers and stuff. We’ll probably have time to grab food first, and we probably don’t have to be there more than a half hour. Sound okay?”

            They nodded, unable to disagree since they still really didn’t know what they were doing.

            “Is there a speaker you want to see or something, Ang?” Laurens asked.

            She seemed taken aback, but recovered quickly. “No, not necessarily, but there’s one I think _you’ll_ want to see.”

            They made it through the crowds, into the huge stadium. Alex had of course heard about stadiums like this, seen them on TV and whatnot, but he’d never been to one. He could not comprehend the number of people streaming in and out of the building, how many different events were hosted there to how many different people with different interests and backgrounds.

            But today it was for all. There were people wearing sports jerseys from everything from football to hockey, more people with different colored hair than Alex had thought there were colors. Just from a glance, Alex saw so many different genders, ethnicities, professions, shapes, sizes, _people_ , that he was utterly overwhelmed. Tears of awe prickled his eyes. He didn’t know how he’d make it through the day.

            Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed two men sharing a kiss, knocking off each other’s huge, matching rainbow hats. They laughed as they picked them up, helping one another adjust them back on their heads.

            Alex smiled, his whole body shaking with joy.

            After that he noticed more and more people holding hands, wearing their gender and/or sexuality flags, a few with their national flags as well and Alex saw that there were people here from France, Syria, Japan, Brazil. The diversity, just in the entryway, was staggering.

            Angelica paid admission and they were waiting for the rest of their group to get through the security line. “How did you hear about this thing?” Alex leaned in and whispered loudly to Angelica. “It’s amazing.”

            She nodded fervently, seemingly in awe herself. “It’s been on the news for a while. Well, not the major news, but I heard about it at one of my father’s dinner parties for one of the organizers. At that time, he didn’t even know if he’d be able to get it up and running. And yet,” she gestured around them. “Here we are.”

            “Wow.”

            “Yeah.”

            Once their group had reassembled, Alex took in his friend’s expressions.

            “Am I dreaming, or is this possibly the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life?” Laurens asked.

            “It’s real,” Eliza assured him with a hand on his shoulder, grinning ear to ear. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.” She took Peggy’s hand with a smile, which Peggy, amazingly, returned, her earbuds stashed away.

            “Well, times-a-wasting!” Angelica clapped her hands to snap them all out of their astonishment. “We can’t stay stand here gaping all day. Let’s go!” She led the charge down the long corridors, and they all had to restrain themselves from going off course to check out booths or displays. Laurens managed to quickly snag a huge thing of fried cookie dough bites, which he shared, though unwillingly.

            Angelica ushered them to a row of seats in the auditorium, but didn’t sit down herself. “Great. I’ll be back in a sec.”

            All of them glanced at each other and said nothing as she left, confused, as if their mother had just left them alone in the middle of a dark forest. They were even more confused when Eliza stood up and followed Angelica.

            They all looked at Peggy. Her hands shot up in the air, her face scrunched in exasperation. “Why would you think I actually know what they’re doing?!”

            “Uh… well, you’re their sister,” Alex informed her helpfully.

            “That doesn’t mean they tell me things,” she harrumphed.

            The screen dropped down in front of the stage was playing one of those “inspirational” videos of a person who overcame their circumstances in life and is now the CEO of a company sponsoring this event, and all such. Alex sighed, figuring even lively rally’s like this weren’t free of their faults.

            Laurens leaned in next to him and whispered, “Do you know what is going on?” while glancing around at the people trickling in, slowly filling the room with chattering voices and colorful flags.

            Alex looked at him. “As Peggy said: it’s Angelica, does anyone really know?”

            Laurens nodded and collapsed back into his seat with a sigh, the only answer any of them could muster for the situation. Not like it was a bad one to be in, though. Alex saw the two guys (he assumed, as they were wearing “I’m With My Best Bro” tank tops with arrows pointing to each other) wearing those weird horse heads violently slap each other’s butts, so. Not a totally bad situation, since it was quite entertaining.

            “Ow, that looked like it hurt,” was Peggy’s only commentary to the sight, and Alex coughed loudly to smother his laughter as those guys went to sit in the row in front of them.

            Soon after the lights in the auditorium dimmed, which Alex thought was strange; it wasn’t like they were seeing a movie or something, but the people around them settled into their seats. The projector screen was raised and the lights went out completely before the ones on stage turned on.

            “Is that?” Laf pointed at the stage.

            “Oh, well, ‘kay,” Laurens breathed, dumbfounded.

            “Of fucking course,” Alex tossed his hands up in the air and was promptly shushed by the people behind him.

            Angelica and Eliza stood next to each other on stage, heads down, twin microphones in front of them. With a breath, their heads went up and Angelica spoke, her voice lashing out at the room, striking and recoiling with quick consonants.

            **“We hold these truths to be self-evident-“**

Eliza joined in, their voices weaving with a subtle harmony. “That all men-“

            Eliza’s light voice danced through the air, but its command was not lost. The audience was completely silent. _“And women-_ “ she called out.

            **“And those gender-non-conforming-“**

            “Are created equal.”

            _“Created? Is my equality a gift as my life was?”_

“If so, why-“

            **“Must I fight for recognition-“**

_“for my ideas to be taken seriously-“_

**“To feel welcome in my own body-“**

_“To have basic human rights-“_

“Or in other words, to be equal?”

            **“You’re definition of equality and mine must be different-“**

“But last time I checked-“

            _“The definition of equality is the state of being equal, in opportunities, class, and in basic rights to life.”_

“What makes those born with male genitalia more deserving of a decent life than me?”

            **“No really, I’m asking you this question.”**

_“Is it because I’m too compassionate?”_

**“Weak?”** Angelica asked as she flexed her muscles. Everyone let their breath go for a moment to laugh.

            _“Well, my question for you is-“_

**“What rights do you have that deny me of mine?”**

“Because last time I checked-“

            _“Not a single person in this room would be here without the mother that carried you when you were most vulnerable.”_

**“Yes, you heard us right; a strong woman is the reason you are alive.”**

_“Have you ever heard the saying:-“_

“I brought you into this world, I can take you out!”

            “Then why has my life always been the other way around?!”  
            **“My options are limited by those who tell me I can’t because I’m not in my place-“**

_“Not MY place, but the one they put me in.”_

And it only skyrocketed from there. The room got more and more tense, raptured, as the girls’ intensity grew, their voices carrying even over the scattered applause and shouts of support. Their words and voices danced together, dipping and then soaring like an electrically charged song. Those who weren’t hollering their agreement made no noise because they were at a loss for words.

            And suddenly, it was over. Not with a bang, but slowly fading out so that Alex didn’t even know it was over until they dropped their heads.

            Even before they stepped away from their mics, the auditorium was flooded with applause. Except the squad’s row of seats. They were dumbstruck, gaping at the dark stage before slowly turning to face each other. Their clapping was slow, still unable to process what they’d just seen.

            “Did you know?” Laurens breathed.

            “N-no,” Alex choked, proud of his friends yet still wondrously confused. Angelica and Eliza would have quite a bit to answer for, later.

            Peggy was jumping and shouting, whistling louder than all of the applause in the room.

* * *

 

            ‘I still can’t believe you did that,” Alex told them after they’d all left the rally and converged at Dunkin’ Donuts, thoroughly exhausted but giddy in their tired stupor. They all shoved into the corner booth while Peggy and Laf went to order.

Angelica only grinned coyly. “I can believe it.” She held up her hand to high five Eliza, who was beaming brightly.

“It really is mostly to Angelica’s credit, though,” she claimed, nodding fervently. “She wrote most of it, and set it up and all.”

“As it usually is,” Alex chuckled.

But Angelica gave Eliza a nasty look, cocking her chin and pouting. “What are you talking about? You wrote it, too. The performance would have been nothing without you. Don’t try to give me all the credit, like all of you always do. Don’t do that. I’m sick of people telling me I’m too good for them as a way of putting themselves down. It makes me feel isolated and cruel. Love yourselves, y’all. I’m not friends with you just because you have such pretty faces. You’re a talented bunch. Don’t forget it.”

She slumped back with her arms crossed, leaving everyone else at the table stunned and Eliza blushing, though it only took a moment for her to crack a smile. She nudged her sister, who with a glance over lost all of her seriousness and shoved Eliza back until both girls were giggling uncontrollably.

It was a sister thing, Alex supposed.

Peggy and Laf returned the table and immediately slumped in their seats, defeated.

“Hey, where are the donuts?” Laurens demanded hesitantly, like he was mad but didn’t want to anger any future donut suppliers. He was diplomatic, that way.

“I don’t know!” Peggy groaned. “I think this place is abandoned. I think we’re about to get arrested for breaking and entering.”

“Well if I’m going down, I’m going down with donuts,” Laurens cried nobly, and Mulligan nodded in assent. Laurens stood straight and tall with pure determination holding him together, but before he could take more than two steps, Jefferson slid in front of the table and slyly waggled his eyebrows in greeting.

“Hello, y’all,” he said.

“AHHH!” they all shouted, jumping back and clutching their chests.

Jefferson pouted and rolled his eyes. “What the fuck? Aren’t you all happy to see me?”

All of them at the table slowly recovered, glancing at each other and mumbling things too vague to be interpreted as affirmation.

Angelica, surprisingly, got her wits together first. “So, you work here now.”

Jefferson gave her a dumb look. “No, I’m the friendly donut hobo. Yes, I work here.”

She held up her hands, then leaned back and covered her face with her hand like she was trying not to laugh.

“Hello, Thomas,” Alex said politely. Jefferson turned to him with a snap of his head that made Alex reel back. But then his face drooped with sympathy, and Alex found himself being wrapped in Jefferson’s arms while he patted his head, rocking him back and forth. Alex was too surprised (and horrifically confused) and it was over too quickly for him to feel uncomfortable or scandalized.

“Oh, Hamilton, tsk, tsk,” Jefferson cooed with his hands on Alex’s shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to get through this.”

Alex’s stomach sank. _Oh, no. Nope. Fuck, no._

Alex did his best to remain calm and not jump to conclusions. He glanced at Laurens, who was still staring at Jefferson like he was the Ghost of Christmas Past. It didn’t help settle the unrest building in his body, but it was something. Alex laughed lightly, though it was strained. “What do you mean?”

Jefferson smiled like he was proud, but also worried. He glanced around and laughed just as non-committedly as Alex had. “That’s the spirit. You know, just for that, your table’s free tonight.” He winked.

That seemed to snap the rest of them out of it, they gave hushed cheers as Peggy spelled out their order.

Alex’s mouth was dry. There was a rotten feeling in his chest, like his heart was decomposing, like he’d been poisoned and he was slowly crumbling away. His mind started racing until he could barely contain it, and all he wanted to do was scream. His eyes darted around, trying to find something to focus in on, something to distract him or clarify all of his suspicions. Somehow, he caught Laurens’ eyes and when he saw the hyper, sick look on Alex’s face he returned it with a panicked one of his own. Before Laurens could intervene, though, Alex grabbed Jefferson’s sleeve.

“Hey, um, just wondering,” he lowered his voice and pulled Jefferson just a little closer. Peggy shouted something about not being done with her order but they both ignored her. “Where did you, you know, find out? About… those… _things_?”

Jefferson pulled away, just a bit, aghast. “Wait, you don’t know about the article?”

Alex shook his head and his whole body lost feeling. _No, no, shit. It’s real. Oh my god. What did I do? Did I drop the letter? I dropped the letter. No._ No _._

Jefferson shrugged, still looking at Alex, bewildered, and went and took a single sheet of paper off of the bulletin board. Sure enough, there was a picture of Alex right in the corner. His eyes were swimming too much to try to read it before Jefferson gave it to him. But once it was in his hands he could make out the headline: “Degenerate, Orphaned Scholarship Winner Involved in International Drug Ring?”, and his name scattered throughout the first paragraph, and a quote from his letter from James, and that the author was Aaron Burr.

Alex couldn’t breathe. His fingertips stung where he held the letter. He barely heard Jefferson when he told him, “Yeah, The Johns and Burr came by yesterday and asked if they could hang it up. I’m sorry, bro. I didn’t realize how terribly off you were. It’s a shame they had to keep demonizing you, though. A damn shame,” he shook his head and walked off.

Alex couldn’t read anymore; there were too many spots blurring his vision and he was shaking too much to hold onto the paper. Angelica’s hand was on his wrist but he couldn’t feel it.

“Alex?” she asked urgently, and the rest of their table went silent. “Alex, what’s wrong?”

“N-nothing, I’m f-fine,” he stuttered out, trying to pull away and only managing after he gently moved her hand off of his. He dropped the article as he stood, then turned back for it, but Laf had already scooped it up and Alex was too frazzled to try to salvage it. He walked in circles for a moment while his friends called his name, before directing himself towards the door.

Laurens tried to catch him right before he was out, but Alex ran and didn’t stop until he found a bus stop that would take him somewhere else. Anywhere, really. Anywhere but where he was.

Because all Alex ever really did was run away, anyway.


	12. The Tragic Backstory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ugh.

            Alex’s talent with ignoring things extended very easily to his friends, he soon found out. Cutting off any contact with them proved to be surprisingly easy, as his mind was occupied with other things and was only partially concerned for their worry about him, which from the few scarce texts he’d received, was non-alarming. But his phone had been silent for the latter half of the week. So he clearly did not have to concern himself very much.

            The texts he had received, though, made it very clear that his friends now knew everything, and also that they did not want to approach him themselves.

            “Alex, please don’t lock yourself away. You can’t and SHOULD NOT handle this by yourself. We can help. I can help. God, Alex, if it’s really the money you’re worried about, it’s absolutely not a problem, not to sound insensitive. Please call me. I need to talk to you,” Laurens had sent him about an hour after Alex had stormed out of the Dunkin’ Donuts. In the next couple days, he’d sent variations of the same message. He’d even called once, but Alex had been sleeping, and didn’t bother calling back.

            “I’m sorry I didn’t text you earlier. John (Church, John) was one of the people behind the article. Whatever part I had in it, if he was partially trying to get back at me through you, or if I gave him any sort of information, I’m truly sorry. We’re all collectively angry at Burr and co. for this, and we don’t blame you for any of it. We’re here for you, Alex. Don’t get all distant just because you’re overwhelmed. That’s what we’re here to help you with,” Angelica had sent Sunday evening.

            Alex received nothing from the rest of them, and he didn’t reply to the others, and didn’t plan on it. He left his phone at home all week.

            That was the difficult part: school. He only had a few classes with his friends, and never all at once. They were all lecture classes, anyway, so they had few opportunities to confront him, though Laurens and Angelica both tried. He suspected they had been the elected “bother Alex until he talks to you” squad.

            He sat at an empty table at lunch. Laurens had come over to pester him into sitting with the rest of them, but Alex had had his earbuds in and ignored him completely. Laurens had sat with him anyway, as if there was no tension or silence between them. Alex was frustrated with this most of all. Couldn’t he be left _alone?_ The next day all of his friends crowded his table, which he promptly left and sat at their now vacant one.

            They got the message after that.

            Everyone else knew, too. Alex wore his earbuds all week to keep away the knowing, feared whispers and glances and snides. With all the other students, Alex didn’t have to worry about keeping himself scarce or hidden. Everyone pulled away from him on their own.

            Alex was better alone, anyway. This had all proven it. He only brought trouble with him, and he wouldn’t let his friends get tangled up in it. He wouldn’t let them be hurt at his expense like that. Never.

            Once he had realized that, he realized something else.

            Until he solved this problem, it would only come back to him, only be a constant threat.

            Alex didn’t know if his new solution brought him dread or relief.

            The only way to keep everyone safe was to do what Alex always did. Or at least had been his most recent means of a solution.

            Running away.

* * *

 

            It had taken Alex only a day to fully come to terms with his plan, though he was still working on devising it. The first thing he knew was that there couldn’t be any goodbyes. Those always came with regrets, with missed opportunities, with attempts to talk him out of it. That wouldn’t do. Mostly because he knew they’d worsen the hollow pain in his chest.

            No. No distractions. Their safety came first. That was far more important than anything he could be feeling. Or anything they could feel in return.

            Of course, the easiest and most difficult thing would be packing up his meager belongings and leaving the Livingstons’ house. He didn’t want to leave without explanation or cause them any excess worry since they were looking after him, or seem ungrateful for all they’ve given him. So Alex had drafted them, and only them, a note explaining himself.

            The others already knew enough. They didn’t need anything more.

            He ignored the voice in his head telling him to stop being so stubborn and ashamed, and suck up his pride and stop hiding from the all. They didn’t deserve it, and neither did he.

            And then he clenched his jaw and let his logic take over. This was the right thing to do. Sure, he didn’t have any kind of money to pay off the debt his brother claimed endangered them. But it was better than letting those thugs find him and everyone he cared about.

            He did have enough money to buy a bus ticket and a plane ticket and bribe someone to tell him where his brother was.

            That was about it, and that was where his plan ended. He hoped that his brother was telling the truth when he said he had a getaway for them.

            Then again, his brother was a compulsive liar and a criminal. Alex wondered why he believed anything in the letter when he had no reason to trust his brother in the first place. But he had done his own research, and their uncle had indeed died by suicide, with very likely a tidy little fortune of drug debts left behind.

            That was enough to make him believe it. Enough to cause everyone he cared about to be put in danger.

            He worked out the kinks in his plan, bought his tickets, steeled himself for it all on Friday night. The steeling himself took some time. He didn’t fall asleep until at least four. It wasn’t like he had anything to do the next day, though. He hadn’t been going into work, and they hadn’t contacted him at all. And this would be his last weekend in New York, anyway. No better time to catch up on his sleep.

* * *

 

            “Buckle up, buttercup.”

            Alex had had approximately five hours of sleep. He could have sworn his phone had been off, as it had been almost all week, but apparently it hadn’t been, since a painfully loud chorus of buzzing woke him.

            He was too exhausted to remember that he wasn’t answering his phone. He grabbed it hastily.

            He had five messages from Laurens.

            “Getupgetupgetup.”

            “I’m outside your house, just so you know.”

            “Alex, come out or I’m coming in.”

            “Alright, you give me no choice.”

            On cue, the doorbell rang.

            The Livingstons must have gone out, because there was no other rushed patter of feet to get to the door first, no smell of breakfast cooking from the kitchen.

            Alex’s heart beat quickly in his chest, startling him from the sleepy dreg he had just been in. While his anxiety was awake, the rest of him was not, and he stumbled several times going down the stairs, nearly face planting. Laurens kept ringing the door bell, and Alex could only groan grumpily.

            He was too tired to ignore it or think of a way around it.

            He answered the door.

            Surprisingly, seeing Laurens wasn’t as much of a shock as he expected it to be. It probably helped that Laurens was grinning, so it couldn’t be a confrontation, which Alex was determined to avoid at all costs.

            “What?” Alex moaned, his voice gravelly with sleep.

            Laurens didn’t acknowledge Alex’s rather unattractive state of being, though he did flinch. “Didn’t you read my messages? You’re having a driving lesson!”

            “…wh-what?” Alex said again, noticing Beatrice parked along the curb, rather crookedly.

            Laurens laughed then turned and skipped down the steps, gesturing for Alex to follow.

            “C’mon! I told you I’d teach you how to drive. Well, it’s time. Let’s go!”

            “Um… no?” Alex argued.

            “Um, yes! Get in, already!”

            Alex was too tired to argue any further. So he followed. Albeit unwillingly.

            “Aren’t you a horrifically unsafe driver?” Alex said as Laurens opened the driver’s side door.

            “That’s precisely why you’re driving.” Laurens patted the seat then went around to the passenger side.

            “Uh…”

            “Don’t worry, it’s super easy. You’ll be a pro.”

            Alex shrugged and got into the seat.

            Laurens buckled himself in, still smiling ear to ear. “Alright.”

            “Isn’t this, like, illegal? Don’t I have to drive with a legit instructor?”

            Neither of them mentioned the fact that Alex’s literal existence in the country was illegal, thought they both were thinking it. Neither said anything in response.

            “Alright. Where are the pedals?”

            “Have you ever actually _been_ in a car before?”

            “Not in the driver’s seat, no.”

            Laurens groaned. “Maybe this is a bad idea. Well,” he clapped. “Too late to turn back now, however.”

            “It is most definitely not too late.”

            “Yes, it is. Okay, so the car is on, and it’s in park. What do you have to do to get it to move?”

            “Push the level and pray.”

            “Well, that’s one way to do it.”

            Laurens went about explaining to Alex how to actually drive a vehicle, and Alex had to admit, it wasn’t really that bad. Laurens was a good teacher. Neither of them even hinted at the fact that they hadn’t spoken to each other for a week. Alex miraculously managed to move the car down the street. Laurens was nearly crying.

            “What?”

            “I’m just… so proud,” he wiped under his eyes, then started laughing manically, which made Alex start laughing too, and he had to slam on the break in the middle of the street because Laurens couldn’t talk to tell him how to properly pull over. Thankfully, the neighborhood was nearly abandoned, everyone at work or still in their beds.

            It wasn’t the greatest idea, but once Laurens was pretty sure Alex had the basic hang of things, they went into the city. They didn’t go to the busy part because Alex almost had a pile up at a stop light, but they went far enough where he actually had to pay attention to traffic (obviously, that was going _very_ well) and make sketchy lane changes.

            “Alright, go into the turn lane and turn left.”

            “Oh no,” Alex said after he had turned, when he realized where they were going.

            “Oh yes,” Laurens said, no longer grinning.

            Alex’s turns were still wide and now his heart rate had picked up, so he sort of went over the curb and accidentally sped up while entering the parking lot, nearly slamming into several other cars. Laurens remained silent through all of it, letting Alex handle it himself, which was most definitely an awful, twisted, and seriously dangerous metaphor for the current track of their relationship.

            “Okay, just park wherever.”

            “Uh.”

            “Here, just go here. You won’t hit anything.”

            Alex parked. They got out.

            “Well,” Laurens nodded. “You didn’t go over the curb. And you only took up two spaces. I’ve seen people go for three. People, meaning me.”

            Alex would have laughed if he wasn’t angry. Laurens knew that too, reading Alex’s unresponsive slouch. He took Alex by the shoulder and led him to the front doors of the library, and then to Alex’s corner. It was cold, a little dusty. He didn’t really want to be back here, and yet it soothed him. The tension that had wormed its way between his bones and joints settled and dissipated like steam.

            Laurens plopped down in the bean bag and stared at Alex as he stood in the corner, unmoving and overwhelmed.

            “So,” Laurens said as a definite statement. Alex was meant to continue.

            “So?”

            “…”

            “…”

            “Are you ever going to talk to anyone ever again?”

            “…not if I can help it.”

            “Hate to break it to you, but you kind of are now.”

            “Well, dangnabit, my plans are foiled.”

            “Are they? And what were those plans?”

            “…”

            “Did they have anything to do with abandoning everyone that cares about you? What about running away from the truth? Or making everyone feel utterly helpless without explanation?”

            “Well, not precisely…”

            Alex didn’t want to meet Laurens eyes because he knew that they weren’t smiling. He rested his hand on the back of the wood chair.

            “Did you think we wouldn’t care, or something? That we would abandon you because of something you couldn’t control? Because of what those assholes tried to personify you as?”

            “Maybe,” Alex confessed in a strangled growl. “Not like people haven’t before.”

            “And we’re just like everyone else? We haven’t stuck with you through everything else?”

            “What was there to stick with me through?”

            “You stuck with me when you didn’t have to,” Laurens told him quietly. “And did you think I wouldn’t do the same?”

            It all became too much when Laurens’ voice broke. All sat down and curled up on himself, his head in his lap.

            “I don’t really know what I was thinking other than that’s what I believed,” Alex felt his own tears, the ones he had held back all week, heat his face. He hoped no one decided that they had a sudden interest in children’s non-fiction right then.

            Laurens came up behind him, put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. Alex let it stay there. He needed something to ground him when his whole world was spinning, when the blood flowing through his head was thrumming in his ears.

            “I know this isn’t often true, Alex, but whatever you were thinking was wrong. So wrong. None of us care about where you’re from, or what your family has or hasn’t done. None of that changes the way we know you. It’s your past, it’s a part of you, yeah, but it’s not all there is, and it surely isn’t the most important.”

            “But I lied. About everything, pretty much.”

            “No, you didn’t. You may have… withheld information, stretched the truth, but you were always you. Always genuine. That isn’t the same as being scared. And it’s okay to be scared about things. I mean, I suppose I’m not being completely honest with everyone either.”

            Laurens knelt beside him. Alex still couldn’t look at him, but he reached for Laurens’ hand and held it tightly, shocked and a little ashamed that he had crumbled so easily.

            Then again, Laurens did know him better than anyone else.

            “Is it possible that you could at least be honest with me? You don’t have to tell me everything, or anything, I guess, just… please, no more silent treatment. Please. Can we do that?”

            Despite himself, despite his plans and tickets and urge to run far, far away, Alex nodded.

            Laurens kissed the top of his head, then helped Alex up after he composed himself, and then went back to the car.

            Laurens drove back to his house, which was best, since Alex really couldn’t stop crying. Just a steady stream of tears down his face, nothing more. But he still couldn’t see anything.

            Remarkably, Laurens was completely composed.

            Alex supposed that’s how they had always been, though. When one of them has a breakdown, the other was always there to be the man of reason, the pillar of strength and acceptance.

            How could he think he hadn’t needed that?

            How could he think running away from all the love and opportunities he had found was the right thing?

            And how had Laurens changed his mind so quickly, without even knowing Alex’s actual intentions?

            It was Laurens, Alex decided. And he just knew. And he was always right, especially when Alex was wrong.

            That’s how they worked.

* * *

  
            Laurens’ house was silent for once.

“The kids are at the zoo. I may have bribed Ms. Prichard big time,” he explained, and for the first time in what felt like forever Alex managed to smile brightly. Laurens noticed and gave one to match, and Alex could barely keep himself from kissing him.

He had fallen in love with that smile first, after all.

They sat on the couch in the living room with their legs crossed, facing each other.

“So?” Alex asked, mimicking their former conversation.

“Just, start wherever you want.”

“Like a therapy session?”

“Sure, but you don’t have to pay me.”

Alex sighed.

He told Laurens first about his mother, because that was the easiest. Laurens’ mother had died too, and it was one of the things they’d first shared with each other. Alex’s mother had died about four years ago, and that’s when everything really went downhill, even though he was already on the beach and the next place to go was to drown. He told Laurens’ how she did work she didn’t like for the kids she loved, and how it still never seemed enough for any of them, and before his mom died his brother James had started to work but not to help them at all.

Alex told Laurens of the long, cold nights where Alex was still hungry, still unsatisfied, but always stuck, always unable to be more than what he already was, unable to move at all.

He told Laurens how when his mother died his brother hadn’t been home all week. Alex had been alone with her when she died, he was the one who had to take care of her body. He was the one to mourn her. Alone.

And when James finally did come home, he acted like nothing was different, like everything was fine. James could take care of himself; he had been for years then. But his mom was the closest person Alex had, and now she was gone, and he didn’t know what to do, and James had never been keen on helping him.

Especially not after he complained, long and loud, about how useless Alex was, and how their mother hated him because he couldn’t do anything good or right. James then moved them to their uncle’s place, hoping Alex could do something productive on the small farm, which he did. Alex joked about how he used to feel like Snow White’s long lost brother. He really did love all the animals, until of course his uncle sold them all, going into entrepreneurship because the agrarian life was no longer reliable, he claimed.

Maybe it was, but just for that moment, it had saved Alex’s.

Alex read a lot, those last few years. James wouldn’t let him go to school even though Alex never knew where James was. But he made himself learn, he needed to. He had nothing else, after all. Absolutely nothing.

Alex didn’t tell Laurens everything about James, or all the prolific traits he had inherited from their father, but as Alex went on, he was pretty sure Laurens understood. Laurens always was able to understand him in a way no one else could, whether he had words or not.

When Alex almost couldn’t go on about his family anymore, or their decrepit, desolate history, he switched to his happier memories, though scarce they were. The bright houses, the colorful streets, the music and stories and the land he loved. Skipping by the ocean and lying on the beach. When it rained just lightly enough to make everything damp and fill Alex with its song, just for a moment, but to not leak into his bedroom where the ceiling was weaker than the rest of the house.

When the days were warm, but the nights were cool, and Alex slept outside.

The few times he’d had a friend who would smile at him every now and again.

The one time he’d kissed a girl on the beach during some kind of party that Alex could no longer remember anything else about.

Alex hadn’t bothered to feel homesick since he had left, but now it was all coming back to him. He smiled softly despite the ache growing in his chest and throat.

And then he told Laurens about his way out.

It had all gotten to be too much. His brother was never home but always hovering over Alex, and his uncle was no better.

So Alex put all the books he’d read to use. He’d written about it all.

And someone just happened to read it.

And that someone had money and a heart.

They arranged everything, his boarding with the Livingstons, his tuition at Albany Prep. The plane ticket to New York. Everything.

Alex left without telling anyone; he was too scared that James would try to stop him.

He was scared to leave, but more scared to stay.

But he had to try. Because if he stayed, that would be it, forever.

And he wasn’t sure he could live with that.

And he explained the letter, how Burr had gotten it, how Burr had cryptically told him to watch his back after The Johns confronted Alex, practically able to smell the foreigner on him. How this all was probably just revenge for that stupid scholarship that he hadn’t even entered.

“And here we are,” Alex finished, his voice sore and shaky, tears in his eyes.

Half of his weight had been released with those words, yet he still slumped back, his head barely able to stay up.

Laurens didn’t say anything. His smile was small, soft. Everything and nothing and anything.

“I may have tried to escape by coming here, but I would have been just as lost if not for you.”

Laurens still didn’t say anything, only shook his head. The room had gotten dark around them, and Alex wondered why the kids hadn’t gotten home yet. There were tears under Laurens’ eyes.

He had to take a deep breath before he said anything.

“Thank you for… telling me.”

“Thank you for listening.”

* * *

 

It was ridiculous that it all was enough, only those few words, those few glances, but it was.


	13. The Eliza Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza's brain is a mess (and so is mine) but she's presh and I love her and Alex is back and this god forsaken fic is almost over

            Eliza rarely liked to admit when she was distressed.

            But she _was._ Very. _Very_. Distressed. And stressed, but she figured that was covered under the previous word.

            School was fine, except she was procrastinating everything, bleary-eyed turning in un-proofed essays and poster boards the morning they were due.

            Home was fine, except everyone in her household was having their own silent crisis over the new baby boy that they weren’t sure would live another week. His name was John. Eliza and Angelica both agreed there were enough of those in the world and tried to discourage that pick of a name, but were overruled.

            Work was fine, except she didn’t really work, just volunteered a million different places all hours of the day. Her schedule was a massive jumble in her head, and yet it still managed to let her know what she needed to be ready for and get done without fail. She didn’t know how that worked.

            She was worried about Angelica be moving away in a few months and Eliza would lose the biggest part of herself.

            She was worried that she would need to know what she was doing with her life pretty darn soon, and she had pretty much no idea.

            She was worried she was spreading herself too thin, and too little was left over for herself.

            She worried she was doing too much. She was worried she wasn’t doing enough.

            She was worried about Alex.

            _You really need to get over_ that, she scoffed to herself. Alex wouldn’t talk to her or anyone else. It was his problem.

            Though she still worried.

            Yes, she was in love with Alex.

            Yes, she knew everyone else knew.

            No, she did not like it.

            It was a stress she didn’t need. Her stupid brain wasted so many thoughts on it night after night, and it only got jumbled in with everything else, like sticky sap, that she couldn’t tell if she was filled with butterflies or anxiety when she thought of him.

            It was too much to be a crush. But too unwanted to be love. She didn’t know what to do with him, so she should have been grateful for the silence he had forced upon them.

            Though she worried. She worried _a lot_.

            About what Burr did to him.

            About what could happen.

            Not about who he was or where he came from. Never about that. Though that’s what _he_ was worried about and hiding from.

            She sighed and rolled over so she was facing her window, another fitful night of trying to fall asleep again. At least she wasn’t hiding like he was.

            Or was she?

            She groaned. These anxieties of her’s were pointless, and yet they were ceaseless.

            She wanted reprieve. She wanted sleep.

            But mostly, she wanted someone to hug her and tell her everything would be alright, to untangle the mess in her brain and her heart and see through the smile on her face.

            She would settle for a few hours of sleep.

* * *

 

            It was a library day, that morning. It was always busy these days, as lots of student’s midterms had put their finals prospects into perspective.

            The bustle amused Eliza, made her glad that this place was such a support to some people. Like Alex

            Ugh. She needed to stop thinking about him.

            As she wedged an index of worms onto the shelf, she smiled, feeling as if she were a part of something important and good. And sometimes that was enough, if just for a moment.

            On this particular morning though, she was extremely tired after tossing and turning for the majority of the night. She did her best to not fall over from the delay of orders from her brain to her feet, but she wasn’t so sure how she was doing.

            She glanced over at her cart, still filled on three sides with bulky non-fiction, and then over at the processing room where rows of more waited.

            It would be a long morning.

            And then Laurens and Alex walked in.

            They were too far away for Eliza to shout any hellos, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Laurens had actually managed to get Alex to go somewhere with him, and it looked like they were talking. Or, at least, Alex wasn’t avoiding Laurens. They went over to Alex’s study corner, which was just out of Eliza’s view. She groaned, unable to snoop inconspicuously.

            But Laurens actually was with Alex. Alex was cooperating. The Silent Era was coming to an end.

            Eliza was shocked to say the least.

            A little giddy, too.

            She shelved faster, not caring to front the shelves and make them neat as she flew through them.

            Soon, though she realized her cart was much too full and that they could very well leave before she had finished and discretely moved over by the children’s nonfiction to snoop.

            So she went over there, anyway. There were three shelves between them. They were all full. They wouldn’t notice her.

            Especially since she noticed that they both seemed to be crying. That was when Eliza started to think that snooping was probably a bad idea.

            It was too late then, she decided. And it was a public space after all. Anyone could see them, she reasoned.

            But this seemed too private for her to be snooping. She nearly turned away

            Eliza only had a small snippet of a view between the shelves, but it was enough to see them. She blindly placed a book on the ends of the shelves, looking like she was working, but not doing anything but making a mess. They were in an easy spot, so she could come back for them later.

            Eliza wish Alex would talk to her like he was talking with Laurens right now. It was probably terrible of her to be envious of someone who was hurting like that, but she wanted something more than playful banter. Something more than the occasional, “hey, what did you get for five on the take home test?” or “that thing is on Friday, right?” She should respect that Alex was closer with other people, that after this kind of thing, Eliza would not be the one he would run to. Or the one anyone else would run to, either. She was dependable, caring, always there. But not enough for everything.

            And that was fine. That was okay. She was there for all of her friends when they needed her, and she left them alone when they didn’t.

            Then she realized her snooping state again and immediately realized that that was pretty untrue.

            She swallowed her shame quickly, grateful that Laurens was bringing Alex out of his depression cocoon. If anyone could, he could, Eliza knew. Those two were the closest out of their whole group.

            And they were getting closer, until Laurens pressed a long, heavy kiss on Alex’s forehead.

            Oh.

            _Oh._

_Ohhhhhh._

_That_ kind of close.

            Eliza was too overwhelmed with the entirety of the past five minutes to actually process them, so she stood behind the shelves, frozen with a book in her hand, halfway to the shelf. She was still standing there when Alex and Laurens left.

            They didn’t notice her.

            Suddenly lots of things made sense, and lots of things didn’t. On the bright side, Eliza’s anxious butterflies or whatever they were were gone. She was numb as she gathered her misshelved books and turned to bring them back to their proper place.

            Well.

* * *

 

            Eliza couldn’t help it. She was crying.

            That might be an understatement.

            Horrific, “I’m being stabbed to death” wails were more accurate. She buried her head in her pillow to muffle them, but her sisters still heard and came to her bedside, as sisters usually do.

            Eliza had made it all through the morning. Through the afternoon. She came home and ate dinner. She put on her pajamas.

            And she broke down.

            Once she could speak without hyperventilating, she turned to Angelica, deflated from all the tears.

            “You knew?” she croaked, her throat sore.

            “Probably yes, but what did I know?”

            “About Alex and Laurens?”

            Angelica’s face softened. “Oh.”

            Eliza snorted, flopping back down on her chest with her pillow balled up under her arms. “Yeah, ‘oh’.”

            “How did you find out?”

            Eliza hesitated for a moment, then told them about her whole snooping incident. Thankfully, they did not look at her like she was a terrible human being, which was how she was feeling. For multiple reasons.

            “Wow.”

            “Yeah. I guess I’m just glad Alex is back… hopefully.”

            “Oh, he is. He is,” Angelica assured her, though Eliza wasn’t sure it had the desired effect.

            “But how about you?” Her sister said, patting her back and changing the focus effectively. “We’ve all been really worried about Alex, and I know you have too, but how have you been?”

            Eliza started sobbing again. Neither of her sisters tried to hush her. Angelica rubbed slow circles on her back and Peggy laid next to her so Eliza could feel her warmth.

            After she had quieted down sufficiently, Peggy whispered, “I’m guessing that means you are Not Good.”

            Eliza hiccup-laughed the rest of her tears out of her eyes and sat up, quickly sheltered with a sister on either side.

            “Yeah, my head hasn’t been… fun, lately. And no, I don’t need therapy,” she said quickly, pointing to Angelica, who’s lips were parted. “Well, maybe I do. I don’t know. I think I just need to sleep.”

            “Then sleep!” her guards said at once, as if it were as simple as turning off the light switch. This made them all laugh, and they all settled into Eliza’s bed (it was ample enough for all three of them) and they each held one of her hands as they dozed off slowly, no tossing and turning tonight.

            Eliza was nearly asleep, the last gears in her mind slowing, when Angelica whispered closely to her, over Peggy’s snores.

            “You’re over him.” It wasn’t even a questions. Angelica always knew. Her eyes were wide and awake, watching Eliza carefully. Eliza knew then that she wasn’t the only one with fretful nights when your body just wouldn’t shut down.

            “Yes,” she said softly, but a heavy breath that had sunk in her chest was exhaled with that small, soft word, and sleep didn’t seem so far away anymore.

            Angelica just nodded and tilted her head so it was next to Eliza’s shoulder.

            The nights were calm when they were together.

* * *

 

            Alex was a part of their group again. He sat at their table at lunch and laughed at their antics and asked for help on his homework again.

            He wasn’t as loud. As animated. He was a lot more reserved and tense and quiet. But he was there again.

            It was more than enough.

            No one asked about the article, and Alex didn’t offer anything about it. But none of them cared all that much. They knew enough, and it didn’t change anything.

            Eliza had changed, though.

            And it felt so _good_.

            Sure, she was still stressed and a little panicked. But she was okay. She had her sisters. She had her friends. She could handle herself and if she couldn’t, she could ask for help.

            It wasn’t perfect, but nothing was. And it was good enough to get by.

            And her crush was more or less gone, so that was nice. Especially now that she knew Alex and Laurens were happy together (even though they hadn’t actually… _told_ anyone that they were) it made everything better, everything a little more in perspective.

            And school was ever more approaching an end for the year. Still months away, but she could hope.

            “Hey, Eliza,” Alex surprised her at her locker after school.

            “Oh, hi!” she smiled, maybe a little nervously. Alex hadn’t actually talked to her personally since everything _happened_. So she didn’t really know what this was about. And she was a little worried she would act weird or stupid.

            But she was always worried about that.

            “Are you going to library today?”

            “Yeah, actually. I probably won’t be there more than an hour, though.”

            “Do you want to walk with me?”

            “Sure!”

            Alex smiled, and Eliza fiercely muffled the remaining butterflies in her stomach. She’d burn them with some hot wings when she got home.

            “Do you mind if we take the bus? I have to pick something up at work quick.”

            “Not at all,” Eliza shrugged. She had nowhere else to be, anyway.

            “Great.”

            The bus ride was unnecessarily awkward. Not because there was really any reason to be awkward. Just that, neither of them really knew what to say. Which was pretty unlike them, since they were usually comfortable around each other.

            Usually.

            Distance made friction, whether they liked it or not, Eliza supposed. It would take them awhile to find their groove again. But they were together. They were still friends.

            Eliza _hoped,_ as she suddenly was paralyzed with fear that she was misguided.

            It was a longer bus ride than Eliza would have liked, especially with the terrible silence. But soon they started complaining about their latest English essay from their less than delightful teacher, and then they had plenty of material, nearly a whole year’s worth of suffering to reflect upon and laugh at.

            “I got an eighty-five on that literary elements essay,” Alex confessed grumpily. “And I still don’t know what I did wrong.”

            Eliza laughed. “Really? I got a ninety and I thought _I_ did bad.”

            Alex grinned and bumped her shoulder. “Figures. You’ve outsmarted me again, Schuyler.”

            Eliza beamed, despite herself.

            And then they were there.

            “Just one minute,” Alex promised her with a smile as they stepped off the bus. She followed him into The Legacy Paper, thoroughly avoiding going anywhere near the demonic abandoned chiropractor. It was merely superstition, but Eliza decided she wouldn’t take chances. Alex veered as far away from it as he could, too.

            Alex had told her it would just be a minute. But when they entered and saw Burr at one of the desktops, Eliza suspected that would be hoping for too much.

            Nevertheless, Alex clenched his jaw and went to his workspace and gathered the papers he needed. He turned to leave, but not before one of the editors could call him back into their office.

            Alex shot her a helpless glance, and then he was gone.

            And it was just Eliza and Burr.

            Burr glanced over at her and quickly looked back at his screen, pretending he was intently focusing on something else instead of avoiding her.

            That, alone with everything else, made her mad.

            And that was quite a feat.

            Eliza loosened her jaw into a determined, sly grin. She wasn’t enraged, she was insulted. Offended. Hurt that he had hurt her friend.

            She didn’t need to scream to get her point across.

            Eliza slid over so she was sitting on the desk next to Burr. He flinched ever so slightly.

            “Hey, Aaron. How are you doing?” She asking brightly with a smile.

            He hesitated, not knowing whether to respond or not. His fingers were frozen over the keys.

            It seemed to take a minute, but he turned to face her, plastering on a small smile.

            “I’m well, thank you, Eliza.”

            “Really?” she asked, feigning surprise. “Because if I were you, I would just be sick.”

            “What-“

            “Sick with guilt. With failure. With regret.”

            Burr sighed as if he wanted anything more than this conversation. He bowed his head, undoubtedly praying for a meteor to strike them now.

            Eliza wasn’t discouraged. She didn’t necessarily need to be successful, anyway. She just had to get her point across. She could handle that.

            “My dad is a politician. I’ve seen and heard some shit. The whole good, bad, and ugly. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen something so disgusting before.”

            Burr’s indifferent expression was one sigh away from becoming a full glare. “Schuyler, this isn’t about you-“

            “It is, though. Alex doesn’t care about revenge. He knows everyone who was a part of your article, but he doesn’t care anymore. He was so focused on running away, and now he’s just grateful that he’s staying. He doesn’t care about what you do did or could do to him. He doesn’t care about retribution.” She leaned in close. She actually had no vengeance planned, or the intent to follow through with any, or any past experience. The fear factor was working for her, though. So she worked with it. She leaned in a little closer, spoke a little lower.

            “That doesn’t mean I forgive and forget so easily. That doesn’t mean I don’t defend my friends. That doesn’t mean I can’t hold a grudge. It’s far more dangerous for me to give a shit about you than for Alex to be negatively indifferent. I promise, and I can keep it, unlike some people.” She leaned back now. Burr looked delightfully terrified.

            “I hope you find happiness in something other than trying to ruin people’s lives because they don’t act like you want. I hope you find some better friends that don’t push you around. And, just a bit selfishly, I hope you stay the fuck out of me and my friends lives until you can grow the fuck up.”

            She sat back all the way with her arms crossed, her lips tight and defiant while Burr’s hung loose.

            Alex walked out and she smiled brightly.

            “Ready?”

            “You bet,” she followed. Neither of them even glanced at Burr on the way out.


	14. Epilogues, Promises, & Such (The End)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *tears* finally, it ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, just, thank you all for sticking with me through this whole story. Thank you for loving it and being patient with me and all the love you give. Thank you, thank you, thank you.  
> It started sort of short, with just Alex and Laurens. I thought that would be a good way to end it.  
> Sorry for the bit of a rambling recap at the beginning. It’s just the Epilogue, anyway.
> 
> XX I recommend listening to The Story of Winnie from Tuck Everlasting, and then Love by American Authors while reading this.
> 
> XXX Idk if junior peace corps even exists don’t ask me ok this is FICTION I do what I want
> 
> <3 xoxoxoxoxo

Alex’s face hurt from smiling so much. His hands hurt from all the clapping. His face was bright red, and so were all of his friends, on their feet applauding Angelica after her valedictorian speech. The roar in his ears flooded to his toes and his body was tingling with all the feelings he ever thought he could feel and more. Herc let out a loud whistle, which made the rest of them laugh.

            Angelica saw them and waved, her smile even brighter than the lights she was under. She backed away from the podium and back to her seat gracefully.

            Eliza, next to him, was the only one crying, but not the only one that was tearing up. Alex hugged her and she softened into him, but didn’t stop clapping.

            So much was coming to an end. And so much was just beginning.

            At one point or another, the applause faded away and everyone sat down and then went home. But Alex didn’t hear any of it. His head was still buzzing until at some point during the post-graduation party at the Schuyler’s house Laurens took his hand, and the world around Alex finally settled into a comforting hum.

            The next year and the next rest of his life felt like a path that he’d take two steps and fall off a cliff, into an abyss of everything.

            But Laurens still held his hand. He would be there to catch Alex, and to show him the rest of the path that was to the right of the cliff, if only he’d turn around.

* * *

 

            The unknown was scary, and Alex knew it wouldn’t be easy. Wouldn’t be as easy as Laurens’ father’s friend’s personal detective digging into his past, finding out his brother was currently on the run from the drug lords and the government and who knows who else back in their home, if he had been stupid enough to stay there. Having him discover that their uncle did not have the debts his brother had claimed. If anyone was in debt, it was his father’s family, and his father too. Who was, apparently, still alive, despite Alex’s beliefs (or hopes). Alex declined when they asked him if he wanted to know his father’s location.

            Alex was assured that no one was out for him. No one was seeking debts from him. Border security was the only thing he had to be worried about, really.

            But now he didn’t have to worry about that.

            He was legally a citizen of the United States.

            He could legally drive a car.

            He wasn’t completely happy, still, but he was safe. For the most part.

            Laurens had arranged the investigation without Alex knowing. For a while Alex didn’t know if he should be mad or grateful. Laurens told him not to be grateful. So he was angry for quite a while, though not outright. Sheltering his past for so long had nearly given him an allergic reaction to it, even if he did trust Laurens.

            Alex told him that arranging all of this behind his back made him uncomfortable, and he didn’t completely know if he was okay with it or not. But also that he knew Laurens had been worried, and Alex wasn’t really being rational then, either, and that it was okay. And Alex wasn’t running away now.

            Laurens listened.

            They were okay now. Alex wasn’t running away.

            Though, he did tell Laurens that he couldn’t promise not bolting away from something in the future.

            Laurens only smiled and took his hand. “I think you’ll stay.”

            “… yeah, I think so too.”

* * *

 

            Laurens had helped him buy his citizenship, too.

            Alex hadn’t been completely happy about that, but it was easy. It was one less thing he’d have to worry about later. He told Laurens he’d pay him back, both the money and the time.

            Laurens had laughed.

            Still, Alex thought it was unfair. Money fixed too much, and was too little offered.

            Alex clenched his jaw and promised himself that he’d fix that. Someday.

* * *

 

            Alex took the scholarship, too. Only after Laurens and Angelica and Eliza and Lafayette and Herc and even Jefferson bugged him about it. Remarkably, King’s College hadn’t revoked it after all the article stuff. And now he didn’t have to worry about his existence being illegal.

            He also didn’t have to worry about Burr. Alex had quit his job at The Legacy Pages, since his scholarship offer came with an internship with the writing staff at the college. His bosses had grumbled, but sent him off with best wishes. They were never really sentimental, anyway.

            Laurens had offered to let Alex stay with him for the next school year, until they figured out what they were going to do with their lives.

            Alex had declined. The Livingston’s said they’d be happy to have him another year. Alex didn’t feel like giving up his host family just yet. And Laurens had given him enough already. He was enough.

            Maybe they would always feel like they had to pay each other back.

            That was okay. They both had plenty to give, and plenty of time to give it.

            They had talked about what they would do with whatever they would do after they graduated. They actually considered moving to London with Angelica. It still wasn’t completely out of the question. Laurens had family there. Apparently, Alex did too, but that wasn’t really what interested him.

            Peace Corps was still something that brought a fire to Laurens’ eyes unlike much else. Alex tried to push him towards it without pushing him away. It was a delicate balance.

            As for now, it was the day after finals, and Alex still took Laurens to the library.

            “But it’s summeeeeeer,” he whined, slumping and shuffling as Alex led him through the doors by his wrist. “I thought that meant no more books for _at least_ two months.”

            “And I thought I loved you. Now I’m not so sure, after those words that literally just came out of your mouth.”

            Laurens groaned but said nothing else as Alex perused the shelves, occasionally pointing out a book to Laurens that Alex thought he might like. He kept all of them in a patient stack in his arms. Alex knew he could have them done in a week.

            Alex picked out a few for himself, and they checked out, about to leave when Laurens asked, “Can we go to the corner?”

            Alex was hardly one to refuse.

            The bean bag was big enough for them to share, and by far more comfortable than the table. Alex pulled out one of his books and began to read.

            Laurens didn’t, though. He sat, twiddling his thumbs, glancing around as if he were nervous, which he never really was. He wore his gray sweatshirt, despite the heat, and his hair was undone. It was undone a lot more, after Alex had said he liked it that way.

            Laurens was never nervous, and he was also terrible at being patient. Alex had hardly turned the first page when Laurens whispered his name.

            “Alex?”

            “Hm?”

            “There’s… uh, something I’ve been meaning to ask you about.”

            Alex looked up from his book. Laurens’ eyes were still darting everywhere and he was fishing something out of his pocket.

            “Yes?”

            “Uh, so… I’m leaving.”

            Alex knew Laurens couldn’t be serious. It couldn’t be what Alex was thinking. He tried not to think it.

            “What?”

            “No, no, not like that, not like that. Not forever. I’m actually,” he paused for a moment, unfolding the paper he had gotten from his pocket. “I’m actually going on a junior Peace Corps service trip. I leave in a week.”

            Alex sat back just a bit. “Oh.”

            “I’m leaving for Puerto Rico.”

            “ _Oh.”_

            “And, uh, I sort of hope I’m not going alone.”

            “…”

            “This is me asking you to come with me. Actually, not even asking, because I already got you a ticket, and I’m just begging you to accept it now.”

            “…oh.”

            Alex looked down at the paper. “Can I see that?”

            Laurens nodded and handed it to him with a tight breath.

            Alex read the paper.

            “You shouldn’t have done this,” he said sadly, but also lovingly. And proudly. Laurens was doing something he dreamed of, finally. Just, Alex didn’t know if he should be a part of it.

            “Why not? Don’t give me your excuses. Not for something like this. Nothing about how you have to study, how you have to work yourself to exhaustion, nothing like that.”

            “Well, it’s _all_ of that, and –“

            “It’s your home. And you can help it.”

            Alex was silent. Laurens was right, like he often was. Alex was still hiding, and from nothing but himself, now.

            “You won’t be stuck there. You won’t be trapped. You’ll be doing good. You’ll be with me.

            “You don’t have to. I know how you’re not completely comfortable with all the stuff at home. I do. And I respect that.

            “But this could be one of the best experiences of my – or our – lives. I don’t know if it would be without you there.”

            Alex was still quiet. Laurens leaned in just a little closer, his voice getting a little softer.

            “You can show me all the parts of it you loved. That’s what I want. I want to fall in love with your home like I fell in love with you. And I want you to see it as a good, happy place. I want you to start making a difference there. Because that’s what you want to do. You want to change the world. You want to _help_ the world. And you can. Anyone who knows you knows that.

            “So, I guess I’ve pleaded my case. No matter what, I want you to be happy. So whatever you pick, I’ll be happy with it. I promise.”

            “…”

            “Alex?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah, I’ll go with you.”

            Laurens tried to dampen his smile and was failing horrifically. Alex kissed him to try to help.

            It didn’t. Laurens was still beaming when they broke apart.

            “I’d always thought of going back one day, anyway. Maybe not so _soon,_ but you’re right. I do want you to see how beautiful it is. And I do want to help. You’re right.”

            “’course I am.”

            “But really. Stop buying me things.”

            Laurens laughed so hard he snorted. “When you’re world famous for solving world peace or something, you can take me on a cruise to Spain.”

            “How about Rome?”

            “Or maybe Japan?”

            “Or Chile. Chile is nice.”

            “You can take me wherever. Anywhere you want.”

            “Would we take the kids?”

            Laurens blanched. “We’re having kids?”

            “Your kids, doofus.”

            “Oh. Ha. I suppose we can take them too.”

            “What about the Schuylers? Or Laf and Herc?”

            “Our romantic cruise is getting rather crowded.”

            “Okay, we can pick them up later.”

            “Pick them up?”

            “This is our personal yacht.”

            “Oooohhhh, okay.”

            Neither of them said anything for quite a bit. Of course, they weren’t imagining a future of riches or fame.

            They were just imagining one where they were together.

            That was good enough for both of them.

            Alex read for a little bit with his head resting on Laurens' shoulder. Laurens talked more about the trip, of all the places they would go that he had researched, how he still wasn’t sure if he would go to college or just join right away. He said he would miss Alex. But they’d make it work.

            Alex had always loved Laurens’ voice. He didn’t really get a whole lot of reading done. He listened to Laurens without interrupting. At one point or another, Laurens grabbed a pen off of the table and started tracing a careful design onto Alex’s arm, still mumbling every once and awhile.

            Alex hardly noticed.

            They didn’t leave until it was getting dark, despite Alex promising that it would only be a short visit.

            Laurens didn’t complain. Didn’t say anything, in fact. They had gotten more than what they came for, anyway.

            They walked back to Alex’s house with their hands clasped together. Laurens found his way over there quite often, now. He liked the comfort of Alex’s small, homey room. Mrs. Livingston liked having someone else to feed. The kids liked having another person to tackle. Alex liked having shared another just little piece of his life with Laurens. Everyone was happy.

            They went upstairs right away. The house was empty. They both crashed on Alex’s bed, since Alex could hardly keep his eyes open, eternally exhausted. Only then did he look at what Laurens had sketched out on his arm. It was an intricate heart, cramped with words and swirls and who knew what else. Above it were their initials; AH + JL.

            “You couldn’t have done anything cheesier.”

            “I really couldn’t have.”

            Alex laughed and kissed Laurens softly. “Thank you.”

            Laurens laughed. “For what?”

            “For being you.”

            “You couldn’t have said anything cheesier.”

            “I really couldn’t have.”

            They had so many words and time and grief and hope between them, but sometimes silence said more. Sometimes just having their hands wound together was everything that could ever need to be said or felt. Sometimes that was all they needed.

            They would go on and wait for each other and run to keep up, and other times, be so close you’d need a wrecking ball to even make a dent.

            They went to the library, Alex sharing stories with Laurens and Laurens giving them right back, in a hushed voice near Alex’s temple.

            They wouldn’t always be together, they knew. But they’d become friendly with their shared silence. They would make that their home, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tbh, my other fic, holding onto what i know, is a vauge, 5 years later, dark AU to this. VAGUE. ALSO WILL NEVER BE FINISHED. But if you want more, there you go.


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